


A Tale of Lions and Wolves

by NothingJustScreaming



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-03-23 12:21:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3768019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NothingJustScreaming/pseuds/NothingJustScreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rickard Stark dies suddenly in a hunting accident, a widowed Lyarra Stark gets a proposal from the last person she expected. Months later, Lyarra Stark marries Tywin Lannister, the effects of which will be felt throughout Westeros, but most acutely by their own children.</p><p>Thanks to Tenten_d for letting me use his/her/their (Sorry not certain about your gender) idea</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prolouge - Lyarra

**Author's Note:**

> The year they were married was 278 AC. The ages of all the characters are:  
> Tywin Lannister - 36  
> Lyarra Stark Lannister - 34  
> Brandon Stark - 16  
> Eddard Stark - 15  
> Lyarra Stark - 12  
> Jaime Lannister - 12  
> Cersei Lannister - 12  
> Benjen Stark - 8  
> Tyrion Lannister - 5

She sat down, her hands folded across her lap. She hummed a small tune and close her eyes, her body swaying to the music. She realized, too late, that the song that had come to her mind was one of mourning, hauntingly reminding her of what she had lost.

A husband, a cousin and a friend. Rickard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, protector of the North, was dead a year now. Her eldest son had destroyed a half dozen swords, hacking away at training targets, trees, rocks, castle walls, and anything that dared get in the way. Her youngest had rushed to return from the Vale, somber as ever and quiet in grief. Her daughter had been the most upset, riding around for hours, cursing anything and anyone who approached her. Her son, her little Benjen, had done nothing, not truly old enough to understand the gravity of the situation.

Then, three moons later, a raven had come from someone she'd never had expected to hear from. Tywin Lannister had come, asking about her and her children's well being, and asking if they would wish to come to Casterly Rock. Lyarra thought it suspicious, but had accepted, under the pretense of establishing trade with the southrons. She had then learned that Lord Tywin's sister had convinced him to go court someone, and he chose her for the political match. Somehow, though, Lyarra doubted that was what ultimately made him propose marriage, as they had spoken at length and there was a certain attraction that grew. She wasn't certain what, but she had found him charming, when he wasn't putting on his lordly display.

The children hated it. Well, Brandon and Lyanna anyway. Benjen had, in his eight year old mind, merely been confused, and Ned was far too reserved to comment. But Brandon had said that he would never set foot in Casterly Rock, and Lyanna had stormed into the hills, and Ned had to be sent to retrieve her.

Now she sat in the hall of house Lannister, next to her soon to be good-sister, waiting to be wed. Genna Lannister had apparently been the person to convince her older brother to remarry, and, from all accounts, it had worked. Lyarra had felt indebted to the woman, but she had just smiled in return, saying "Be careful, you shall be a Lannister soon, and Lannisters always pay their debts."

The wedding began in a hurry, and if she was honest, it was all very confusing to her. She barely remembered the words they were supposed to say or why it all had to be done seven times, but, ultimately, her grey direwolf cloak was replaced by a red and gold lion, and she was Lyarra Lannister.

The applause was thunderous in the sept of the Rock, and all the Lannister and Stark children stood in the center of it, looking tremendously uncomfortable. All save Brandon, of course. He had stayed in Winterfell, as he had before said he would. He was the lord now, and there was no ordering him about. He had taken to explicitly refusing any commands given to him. Thankfully, the marriage agreement between him and Catelyn Tully seemed to remain in place, for now.

They made their way to the feast, where her new, regal looking husband sat commandingly overlooking the goings on at the head of the table, while Lyarra spent her time surveying the crowd. Tywin's youngest brother seemed to be getting along well with his new niece, and even from her perch she could hear the rowdy laughter of the two trading bawdy jokes. Benjen was sat next to the youngest Lannister, the Imp he was called. Tywin had been most upset when she demanded he be allowed to see the ceremonies, but he had allowed it. The two seemed to be amicable, though Benjen was confused as to why he was so small. Eddard, her quiet wolf, was solemn as ever, speaking sparingly to Tywin's brother Tygett, the only one who was a stony faced as he was. Her eyes scanned for the remaining two Lannister children, and she found them next to each other, opposite her own children, talking idely.

Her crowd watching was interrupted by the first of those come to present themselves to the wedded couple. It was none other than Tywin's brother Kevan, who greeted her with a friendly smile, saying, "We are pleased to welcome you and yours into the family, my Lady. I hope you bring a smile back to my brother's solemn face."

Lyarra smiled, "Thank you, my Lord. I'll try my best." She said playfully, but when she turned to her husband, he had merely raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, and of course there is my gift," said Kevan again, this time producing a necklace of sparkling gold with a golden lion and a silver direwolf howling, "So you might remember your past, and celebrate your present." The man said with a thoughtful look in his eyes.

She beamed at him, "Thank you, my lord, this is most generous of you," Lyarra said, then turned to Tywin who nodded.

"Thank you, Kevan." he said simply.

The Lannister bowed deeply and turned away from the table. Next came Genna, the woman whom she had befriended early and easily, "Oh well, I suppose I should regret no longer being the Lady of Casterly Rock." Genna said with a smile at her brother, "Oh, cheer up Tywin. It's your own wedding, after all."

Tywin's eyebrow jumped up again, but he did not crack a smile, "Genna, you were the one to convince me to remarry in the first place, were you not?"

"I suppose so," she said with mock annoyance, "And, sister, it's so good to have you in the family. I can see your lot is getting on well with our lot. Ah, and of course, the gift." she said faster than Lyarra could process. The woman produced a great tome, "This is a history, you see, of the great houses during the wars of King Aegon. Very rare, and very valuable, and a good gift for a wise ruler." she said to her brother, who appraised the book with his cold, steely glare.

"Thank you, dear sister," he said eventually, which Lyarra echoed. The woman curtsied and went back to her place at the table.

The ceremony continued, and some minutes later, the children approached the table. They were an impressive lot, and different in every way imaginable. Eddard, Lyanna and Benjen all stood with their Stark gray eyes and Stark black hair, all looking like the great north where they originated. Eddard took out the gift, which was a sheathed blade adorned with a lion at the handle. Lyanna didn't hide her disgust with the piece, but Tywin tactfully ignored the reaction. Instead, he drew the blade, revealing an impressively well forged steel sword, which was gold with a silver design of a lion and a wolf running towards the end engraved in.

The man nodded in approval, "Which one of you had this commissioned?" he asked, giving the three Starks piercing stares.

"I did, Lord Tywin," answered Eddard, with a matching glare.

Tywin looked him up an down before saying, "Well done."

The three Lannisters had opted to get a gift for their new mother, thinking it appropriate. Well, the twins anyway, as Cersei would sooner be thrown off the cliffs of the Rock than be near her younger brother. It was Jaime who presented the gift with his most dazzling smile, "My lady, a new lion for you," he offered as he presented a beautifully adorned bracelet, Lannister gold with lions running around it. Lyarra thanked the golden haired children, but noticed the haughty look Cersei gave Lyanna, and the scowl she received in return.

The night winded down, and eventually they were whisked away for the bedding. They had lain in bed afterwords, and, to her surprise, Tywin had asked her why she had accepted the marriage.

She told him she wasn't certain, which was true, but there was more to it than that. Tywin was a hard man, one loathe to give anything away about himself, but she saw something there that had fascinated her. Tywin had then done something she never had expected. He smiled, and kissed her on the forehead, "We'll have to find out together."


	2. Lyanna I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody goes for a merry ride through town, meets a few kindly merchants, and chats with a fascinating elderly woman. Then, they meet an unexpected guest.

She missed Ned. He was off in the Vale, laughing and playing with Robert Baratheon under the watchful eye of Jon Arryn. He visited often, at least. She barely ever journey from the Rock, herself, save when she was in the capitol as Lord Tywin's daughter, the hand's little Stark girl, not that that improved anything. She was only there a fortnight, and she had hated every moment of it. She was supposed to have returned, but the Kingswood brotherhood had been making too much trouble and Tywin refused to send for her.

But Tywin and her mother were home now, and planned to stay here a while yet. Lyanna didn't as why, he merely announced it in his usual gruff way before retiring. That had been last night, and now Lyanna was sitting, bored, in the middle of the vast rooms she'd been given. Tywin was kind to her in that regard, at least as kind as he could be. He never smiled, but he did seem to appreciate it when she called him “father.”

She sighed, deciding to go and try to convince the stable master to let her ride. She had only just changed into riding clothes, when a small knock came from the door. “Come in,” she commanded distantly, and a small figure sneaked through a crack in the doorway, “Tyrion, what is it?”

“Nuncle Gerion got me a new book!” he reported excitedly, holding the tome in his hands.

“He did? And what is it he got you?” Lyanna asked patiently.

Tyrion looked at the title, “ _Conquest of Dorne_ by Daeron the Young Dragon.”

“A famous book,” Lyanna commented, knowing it to be true, though she never read it. She never much liked reading, but she encouraged Tyrion's efforts. Gods knew the boy needed someone to help him.

Tyrion nodded, and sat down on the small couch in her solar. He opened the first page, which held a map of Dorne, and pointed at the boneway, “This is the boneway, where Daeron managed to get past the dornish by using the goat paths.”

“Really?” Lyanna asked, feigning interest, and Tyrion continued excitedly chattering, Lyanna interjecting with words of encouragement here or there. Eventually, she must have mistepped, because the boy frowned.

“I'm sorry, Tyrion, I didn't mean that.” Lyanna tried.

“You weren't paying attention, were you?” Tyrion said, closing the book and frowning.

Lyanna felt terrible, “I'm sorry, Tyrion, but it's all too complicated for me. I never had much a head for histories.”

Tyrion sighed, “It's okay Lya.” he said after a while, “You're kind to me.'

“Of course, you are my brother, afterall.” Lyanna said, putting a hand on the boy's back.

Tyrion smiled, “I wish you were my real sister.” he admited in a quiet voice.

Lyanna could hardly blame him. If there was one person she had grown to loathe, it was Cersei Lannister. In the two years she had been here, there had been no lesser bane on her existence than the haughty girl. She decided to change the topic, “I'm going to go riding later, would you like to join me?”

Tyrion nodded, “I can ride, Lyanna. Jaime taught me how.”

Lyanna laughed at his youthful eagerness, “Very well then, Lord Lannister. Shall we make our way to the stables?” she said with formality that made him giggle.

“Yes, Lady Stark, shall I escort you?” he said, reaching up to hold the crook of her arm.

“Oh my, to be seen escorted, alone, by such a handsome lord? Why, the realm will think it scandalous!” Lyanna continued the mock formality.

Tyrion only beamed in return. Lyanna gestured for the guards assigned to them to follow, and they made their way to the stables, passing along the great courtyard, where an unwelcome sight greeted them. Cersei turned heel, giving them all a glare, “And what do you think you are doing here?” she demanded of her younger brother.

Lyanna frowned, “Lord Lannister and I are off for a ride around the castle.”

Cersei glared at her, “You know father banned you from galavanting that _thing_ around the castle.”

Lyanna put on a confused face, “He did? Why, I don't recall any sch edict. I seem to remember that it was only a weak ago that Lord Kevan had Tyrion ride with him to Lannisport on business.”

Cersei grinded her teeth, “You are up to something, Stark.”

Tyrion hid behind Lyanna, who replied, “I assure you, we're only going for a ride around the castle. But if you're so worried, you are free to join us.” She said this hoping beyond hope that she would refuse.

“Yes, perhaps you should, Cersei.” came her mother's voice from behind her, much to Lyanna's dismay.

“Mother!” she said, turning to face her. Lyarra Lannister had come a long way in the last two years spent as Lady of the Rock. She was well loved here, and her growing belly only added to that love. The North loved her too, for all the trade and wealth her marriage to the west had brought them.

Lyarra gave a stern look, “Lyanna, come here a moment.” Lyanna begrudgingly did as she was bid.

Her mother leaned in close, her pregnant gut not large enough yet to be in the way, “You are acting childish. I know you don't like her, but you don't need to antagonize her every time you get in shouting distance.”

Lyanna grimaced, “As soon as she is nice to her little brother. Even his own father is mean to him!”

Lyarra sighed, “ I am... working with Tywin. He's coming around on the point, but that does not involve Cersei. Perhaps if you go with her and Tyrion on a ride, things will get better between them.”

“But...” Lyanna began to protest.

“Lyanna, please, for me?” her mother asked, and Lyanna begrudgingly acquiesced.

Lady Lannister straightened to her full height, “Go on now, children. Bring Beron and Roland with you, and be back before supper.”

Lyanna scowled as she helped a shaking Tyrion to his pony. Cersei was assisted by Roland the guard, and smirked as she said, “Little brother, when did you learn to ride? Did Lyanna teach you?”

“No, Jaime did.” Tyrion replied, still giving a weary look at her when he was sat in the special saddle made for him.

Cersei scowled in response, as she did whenever she was reminded of her twin's kindness to Tyrion. Lyanna smiled at the expression, allowing herself to revel in he goodsister's pain. She spured Winter on, and the Lannister siblings followed after.

Tyrion rode next to Lyanna opposite side of where Cersei was, and the guards took either flank. Lyanna turned her steed towards Lannisport, earning a cough from Beron, “My Lady, we were only to ride in the grounds around the Rock.”

“Oh, it's only a little adventure. Besides, it'll be good to see the smallfolk, they do so love seeing us around.” Lyanna said with a kindly smile.

“Lya, father...” Tyrion protested in a small voice, but Lyanna held up a hand.

“Oh, it'll only be a little while. Besides, Cersei and I have been told to speak more, and this will give us the perfect opportunity.”

The Lannister lady sneered, but said nothing, and they turned towards the city. The city folk wore big smiles when they saw their ladies pass, though some whispered amoung themselves at the sight of Tyrion. He inched closer to Lyanna, who gave a kind smile, “They're only unsure of you. They don't see you very often, afterall.”

“My lady! Lady Stark!” called out a flower merchant from his stall. Lyanna gave her smile as she leaned forward for the man to plac a small red and blue flower wreath atop her head, “Thank you, kind ser.” Lyanna graciously accepted, while the man put a wreath of yellow and red on Cersei's head. The man gave a peculiar look at Tyrion before bowing and wishing them well, and Lyanna payed the man a handful of silver stags.

Tyrion was frowning as they moved on, and Lyanna assured him, “Strong men do not need crowns of flowers, Lord Lannister.”

“Neither do cretins,” Cersei added, and Lyanna gave her a glare.

“Why are you so cruel to him?” Lyanna demanded, “He's done nothing to deserve it!”

Cersei sneared, “He killed my mother, the wretch.”

“Your mother!” Lyanna's gray eyes turned to storm.

“Lyanna...” Tyrion said giving her a pleading look.

Lyanna gave an exasperated sigh, “Mother told us not to fight. Come on, I wonder what's over there.” Lyanna said, riding her horse towards a back alley, the guards struggling to keep up.

“Lyanna!” Cersei called after her, and the smallfolk chuckled.

One man called out, “The she wolf is taking our lioness out for a ride, then!”

Lyanna laughed in the wind. Her hair flowed around her, loose and free. She only slowed to allow her horse go around a large well, and to wait for the others. Cersei arrived shortly afterwords, and Lyanna looked at her with a mocking smile, “Terribly sorry, my lady, I appear to have lost control of my horse.” But Cersei's face was ghostly white, and she was fixated on the well. Tyrion rode next to Lyanna, seemingly taking longer because of the short pony, but she frowned too at his sister's pallor. Lyanna swallowed, “Cersei?”

The lady shook her head, “Yes, yes, I'm fine.”

Lyanna wasn't so certain, “We can go back, if you...”

“I'm fine,” she insisted. And this time it was her who kept the party moving.

Tyrion pointed to a large, fancy building with a child's crossbow in the window, and looked at Lyanna, “Can I get one, Lya?”

“I don't see why not,” she decided eventually.

They dismounted from the top of their horses, and Cersei gave them an impatient glare, but it lacked the ferocity from before. The smith asked two silver stags, but Lyanna payed five. It was only polite, she figured, given how he likely lowered the price anyway for the ladies of the Rock. Tyrion gave her a big smile, and the smithy bowed deeply in reverance. When they returned to their horses, Cersei was calmer, seemingly having regained herself.

“A weapon?” Cersei asked, “Oh, I'm certain father will adore that.”

“When did Jaime get his first sword?” Lyanna countered, “I'm certain he was not much older, if he was older.”

Cersei huffed, and the party continued on. They rode for a while longer, Lyanna and Cersei playing the ladies for the adoring smallfolk, who, to Cersei's dismay, seemed to like Lyanna more than her. “The she-wolf of the rock,” they called her, or “The rose of winter.” Cersei had her own nickname, “the lioness,” or, “the light of the west,” but she was less apt to hear them.

Lyanna smiled, happy to be free of the castle, when she noticed that Cersei's face went white as snow once more, and she was fixated on a building, mostly unmarked save an aging sign that read, 'Maggy the Frog, fortune teller.' Lyanna turned to Cersei, “Let's go in.” she tried.

Cersei's face was white, “Why? Need a mummer to tell you lies?”

Lyanna was going to protest when the door to the shop opened, revealing an aging old woman with gnarled fingers, pointing at her, “You shouldn't be here.”

Lyanna's widened in suprise, “My mother is the lady of these lands.”

“No, child, you shouldn't be _here_. It's all wrong, something has changed.” the woman insisted, fire in her eyes, “Someone has changed it, and there will be a reckoning.”

“Foul witch!” shouted Cersei, and Lyanna was inclined to agree.

She turned to face the golden haired girl, “You should be thanking this girl. The prophecy I gave has changed, foolish girl.”

Cersei's mouth hung open, “I'm not...”

“I've lost it, girl. Do you understand? And it's that girl's doing!” she said accusingly, pointing at Lyanna. Beron drew his sword, but the old woman just laughed, “Oh, I'll move on now, don't worry boy. Maggy the Frog will likely die soon.” she said with a strange smile, and went back into the shop.

Lyanna was speachless, and Cersei was stunned. Tyrion, however, coughed and said, “Can we keep going?” Lyanna nodded, and their party moved on, finally reaching the gate of the city.

They rode for a few hours in more or less silence, Cersei and Lyanna trying t cope with what they had just witnessed. Tyrion stopped, and pointed out oddities and merchants on the road, but Lyanna was too distracted to notice. Eventually, after some time cooling down, they had reached the end of the city, and its large gate.

Beron asked, “Shall we go through the city again, or shall we go on the outside, my lady?”

“We shall go on the outside, my brother should be returning soon and we may see him.” Cersei commanded gracefully.

“I wanna go near the docks,” Tyrion protested in a small voice, privy to Lyana only, “I wanna see the boats.”

Lyanna thought on it a second, but was interrupted by a figure riding through the gate, an escort of three surrounding him. She smiled wide at the fur and gray cloth covered man, “Ned!”

“Lyanna?” Ned spun around to face her, “Why are you here?”

“We went for a ride,” she explained, and then at his sudden raised eyebrow at Cersei, “Mother said we would bring her.”

“I see.” Ned said, and said no more.

“Lord Eddard,” Cersei said, with a nod that was reminicsent of her father, “A pleasure to see you again.”

Lyanna doubted that, though, come to think it, she had no idea what Cersei thought of her brother. She didn't think she'd seen them speak much outside of introduction and occasional chats of propriety. They certainly didn't speak of one another much. Ned bowed as best he could on his horse, “Lady Cersei, and Lord Tyrion, your brother sends his regrets, Lord Crakehall went back to the capitol to receive honors from the king.”

“You saw Jaime?” Cersei demanded, eyes suddenly wild.

“I didn't, but Lord Arryn did. I was sent from the Eyrie after we had heard about the bandits, and Jon led a group of men to capitol to fight the brotherhood. I only got the message that he wouldn't be here when I arrived in Silverhill.” Ned replied curtly.

Cersei looked dejected, but Lyanna wasted no time in embracing her brother, “It's good to see you, Ned. How long are you staying?”

Ned frowned, “Not long, and I'll be going north before I return to the Vale. Brandon has requested his heir attend him before his wedding.”

Lyanna furrowed her brow, “Why?”

Ned shrugged, “He didn't say.”

Lyanna's frown deepened, “He hasn't sent us an announcement for the date, does he plan on inviting us?”

“I'm... not certain.” Ned admitted, frowning, then looked at the party assembled, “We should head to the castle. Mother will want to know I'm here.”

The party regathered, and Lyanna rode next to Ned, chatting her way up the hill while Tyrion closely clung to her other side. Well, if she was honest, Lyanna did most of the chatting. Ned, as he always did, listened carefully, only speaking when he had something to add. Cersei was strangely silent as well, Lyanna noticed. Normally, she would speak boisterously to any lordly guests she had the opportunity to communicate with, but not so now. Instead she studied him, quietly. Lyanna brushed it off as little more than remaining fright from the old woman's harrowing words and the well, whatever that meant to her.

It was another hour before they reentered the castle only to find, to their surprise, a summons to the council chambers waiting them when they arrived.


	3. Eddard I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tywin calls the children in for council. Short, but (I hope) sweet.

Cersei and Lyanna walked into the room first, and he followed as politely as he could. Inside, at the head of the table, was the fearsome Tywin Lannister, lions adorning his surroundings. His mother was sat next to him, smiling and rubbing her growing belly.

“Eddard, good, sit.” Tywin commanded.

He did so, between Cersei and his sister, who was in turn next to Tyrion. A moment later, a little voice came from behind him, “Ned!” announced his younger brother and he found himself enveloped in a sudden hug.

“Benjen, sit.” commanded Tywin, glaring at the boy to drive the point home. He cleared his throat, “There has been news. Jaime, as I'm certain you know, Eddard, is staying in the capitol having just been knighted. We have received a summons to the capitol, to be fulfilled immediately.”

Benjen's eyes widened, “But you only just got here.”

“ It is a royal summons, sweetling,” Lyarra spoke before Tywin could, “It is your father’s duty to follow.”

Tywin nodded curtly, giving an impressed look at his wife, before continuing, “Benjen will be joining us to the capitol.”

Cersei coughed, “Father, I'm certain that you didn't mean to leave me behind while you go off to the capitol with Jaime?”

Tywin gave a glare, “No, Cersei, you are to stay here, as is Tyrion. Your uncle Kevan will watch the castle while we're gone.”

“But father, surely I should see Jaime,” Cersei began, but, to Eddard's surprise, it was his own mother who cut her off.

“Your father gave a command, Cersei.” Lyarra replied curtly, in a tone that offered no reprise.

The girl frowned, but said nothing, and Tywin looked at Ned, “Eddard, I see you've returned. Tell me, what do you plan on doing now that you are here?”

Ned cleared his throat, “I plan on staying here and resting for a while, then traveling to Winterfell. My brother has requested my presence before his wedding, though he did not say why.”

“Brandon has not sent us word of his wedding, are we to assume we are not invited?” Lyarra asked, dread far from her voice.

“I do not know. I've told you all the letter contained.” Which was true, the letter had been very brief. But then, that was Brandon.

“When do you intend to depart?” asked Tywin with unusual patience.

“A fortnight from now, I believe.” Eddard replied, matching Tywin's definate tone.

Tywin nodded, giving a respectful look at him, “You will have provisions for the journey. I prusume you will be traveling by ship?”

“Yes, as far as Deepmotte if I can.” He replied with a nod.

“Good,” said Tywin succinctly, “We will depart at the same time.”

Lyarra pursed her lips, “Dear husband, perhaps it would be good for the other children to go north with him? Afterall, they have yet to see their new goodmother's home, while Eddard, Lyanna and Benjen have seen much of Casterly Rock.” Eddard blinked.  _ Are you certain, mother? Do you think Brandon will be grateful we brought Lannisters into Winterfell? _

Tywin was silent a moment, considering this, “Yes, that would be for the best.”

Tyrion's smile was wide, but Cersei, if she looked annoyed before, was now infuriated, “You want me to go north?”

“Sweetling,” Lyarra consuled, “You will love Winterfell. True, it lacks the luxury of the Rock, but the freedom and the warmth of the north capture all hearts.”

“Warmth in a place where it snows in summer?” Cersei asked sardonically.

Lyarra smiled, “'Tis a different sort of warmth.”

Benjen was frowning severly, “But mother, I wanna go with Tyrion and Ned!”

“Want you may, go you will not,” Tywin said evenly, “You are a growing lad, and you must be presented to court so the opportunities available to you are presented. You all may go.”

Benjen began whining immediately after leaving Tywin's omnipresent gaze, and Tyrion seemed to try to comfort him, but he wasn't sure why or how, “Don't worry Benjen. You'll still get to go to new places!”

“I wanna go see Brandon in Winterfell!” he pouted, and Ned turned to his youngest sibling.

“Ben, you have to stay with mother,” Ned said, “Don't worry, Winterfell isn't going anywhere. It'll be waiting for you next time.”

Lyanna, too tried to be sympathetic, but was overpowered by the retreating goose-steps of Cersei. As the Starks watched her leave, Lyanna muttered, “She should be glad to go to Winterfell.”

“She'll see how nice it is when she gets there,” Ned assured, though he was uncertain himself, “Though it'll be a slow journey. It was hard enough getting through the mountains with the snow as it is. For now, tell me about what you've been up to.”

“Oh oh, Ned,” Tyrion said quickly, “Did you look like I asked?”

“I did,” Ned assured with a small smile, “Lord Arryn said he would send a whole cart of books for you. He was very happy to hear how much you liked the last ones.”

And so they continued chatting, the day passing lazily, despite the bitter cold. A few hours went by before Ned managed to slip away from the crowd of his siblings, and went down the way to find his mother alone in her solar.

“Eddard,” she said with a smile, and they shared a brief embrace, “Why is it you have come for me?”

“Why are you sending Cersei to the North?” He asked, brow furrowed, “I know Tywin would rather his pride stay here in the Rock, and you know Brandon will be loathe to have Lannisters in Winterfell.”

Lyarra pursed her lips, before saying carefully, “What I am about to tell you can never leave this room, nor travel past your lips save in my presence and my presence alone. I only will tell you this because you are the one child of mine I know to have discretion.”

Ned, though surprised by the sudden seriousness, nodded grimly.

His mother continued, “I have found, in my recent days of living among the twins, that they have an unusual care for one another. At first I thought nothing of it, but then...” she trailed off.

Ned had never seen her look so distressed, “What happened, mother?”

“I caught them, well, doing things indecent between a brother and sister. They did not notice me at the time, to enrapt in their pleasure to care, but I went to Tywin right away.” Lyarra confessed in a whisper, “He agreed that the activity had to stop, and immediately. So we've been separating them, hoping beyond hope that one or the other will find a new partner, a new lover, even. He agreed that there was no where more remote from the south than Winterfell, so we decided to send her there.”

Eddard blinked in pure astonishment, “Mother...”

“Not a word, Eddard. Not now, not ever, do you understand?” Lyarra demanded, “The honor of our family depends on it.”

Eddard had no words to capture his shock, but he nodded quickly anyway. He left then, deciding to wander the halls alone. He didn't know if he could face Cersei anytime soon, but what he did know was that he would keep his oath.The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He had seen how the twins look at each other, as if all the love for their dead mother and forgotten brother were simply between them.

He went to the small godswoods, and found himself praying for the gods to give him guidance. All he got in answer was a distant howl of a wolf. 


	4. Cersei I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei observes as the party arrives in Winterfell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo.... This chapter had to be fixed because I accidentally put Benjen here when he's in King's Landing. Thanks to Violet on AO3 for pointing this out.

The snow was caked on the hem of her dress, as if it had swept into the carriage from the outside. She huffed, pretending that the results of a minutes chance to stand didn’t bother her.  _ Damned powder, if the seven hells had half so much as there was here I should become a septa. _ She had been happier when they were riding south of the neck, where the idea that winter was finally ending seemed plausible, or even when they went through the bog ridden neck itself, though that had been particularly painful.

Tyrion, the rat, seemed to be enjoying himself. He was wide eyed with wonder every time a snowflake managed to touch his misshapen head, and he was constantly asking questions to the Stark siblings. They had long since begun the trek beyond the neck, and Cersei had been struggling to keep from shivering. She tried to carry herself haughtily, as she did in the westerlands around the smallfolk, but the damned cold was too much. She had eventually accepted the furs offered by Eddard Stark, but only after a good, long fight against accepting the charity offered.

She found herself, more and more, wishing for her golden twin to be by her side. He alone could keep her warm in this hell hole, but he was in the capitol, waiting for father to return to his post. Now that she thought of it, her father likely had already arrived there, and Jaime was likely being corrupted by the damnable Stark woman.  _ Curse Lyarra Stark for trying to replace her mother. _

She disliked Lyarra Stark for that reason, but at least she had manners. Lyanna was the worst of them, riding and fighting and being rude at every opportunity. Of the others, she knew little. Benjen was a little boy, albeit a sweet one, and therefore lacked for personality beyond that. She had never met the lord of Winterfell, but knew of his reputation as a wild, womanizing, charismatic and handsome man. Eddard, on the other hand.

She was never certain about him. She didn’t trust him, that much was certain. He was too quiet for her liking, never speaking, only observing and judging. Recently, he had been keeping his distance from her. The Quit Wolf, she had decided, was a potential threat.

“ Winterfell! Tyrion, look it’s Winterfell!” Lyanna called outside her carriage. Cersei poked out her head, and saw a great, grey and ominous citadel rise high beyond the snowy moors.

“ That’s Winterfell?” the Imp asked with a wonder in his voice.

Lyanna laughed like a woman possessed, and rode off on her horse with speed Cersei would have thought both horse and rider incapable of. “Lyanna, slow down!” commanded Ned, but he had a chuckle coming through his serious temperament.

They rode in quicktime, thank the gods, and when Cersei left the carriage, she was beyond the gates of the castle. She turned and saw a handsome, smiling man with his arms around Lyanna, both of them laughing while he twirled her around. “Brandon,” Lyanna laughed, “It’s good to see you.”

“ And you, little sister,” Brandon laughed, “When I heard you were coming home I thought it couldn’t be possible, that I would have too much happiness.”

“ Too much?” Eddard said, with a small smile, “ That would be a first, Brandon.”

“ My heir has decided to grace my presence at last,” Brandon said with a chuckle, “I must say his time in the Vale has seemed to make him more stony, if anything. But then, I suppose that shouldn’t be surprising.”

Cersei coughed, deciding now would be a prime opportunity to get near the closest hearth, “My Lord Stark, a pleasure.” she said with her most elegant curtsy.

Brandon’s eyes suddenly turned to rage, “Who are you.” he demanded.

Cersei gave an impertinent glare, “I am Lady Cersei Lannister, Lord Brandon. My father is warden of the west.”

“ And I am the Warden of the North.” the man growled, “I had hoped the letter you sent was wrong, Ned. But I see that you’ve brought the Lannister and her imp.” he spat Lannister like a curse.

Cersei suddenly darkened in rage. No one spoke of the Lannisters that way, no one dared insult them, even if it was her brother. She went to speak but was stopped when Lyanna spoke first, angrily defending the dwarf “Brandon, the boy has seen enough mockery in his life. You need not add to his pain.”

The man looked at her, “you defend the Lannisters?”

“ Brandon,” Eddard said with typical calmness, “Mother has asked that you keep them here a while, only until I return to the Eyrie.”

That seemed to cool the wolf’s blood, “Yes, very well.” he said gruffly, and Cersei realized she had just come to the aid of her brother, who was busy cowering behind Lyanna.

The entered the great hall, and Cersei was shocked to feel the warmth of the castle, as if the walls themselves were keeping her warm. She touched the stone gray walls, and in astonishment found that they were indeed warm, and her eyes widened. She turned and found Tyrion doing the same, looking at her with a wide smile. She turned her nose up and stormed away, to the center of the hall where the Starks were deep in conversation.

“ You wanted Ned here and not us for your wedding?” Lyanna was demanding, furious.

Brandon laughed, “I’m not to be wed a while yet. I called Ned because I wanted to see him again and besides, tis’ a small thing. Of course I want you here for the wedding itself, but I thought the Lannisters would only send one they thought I would absolutely need, lest they lose their hostages.”

“ Hostages?” Ned asked, the suspicion plain in his voice.

Brandon looked puzzled, “Of course. That’s why I asked for ‘my heir,’ I needed to make sure Tywin would let you come, even if he was far away from the Eyrie.”

Eddard sighed, “Brandon, they’re not Tywin’s hostages, and mother would want to come as well.”

Brandon narrowed his eyes, “You know they are just being nice so they won’t run, Ned. Tywin Lannister’s sigil may be a lion, but he’s a snake, and they will be hostages before long. I should call the banners and put him in his place...”

“ Bran...” Ned said, calmly asking him to restrain himself, “Truly, though, why is it you called me here?”

The lord of the North smiled, “I have a gift for you. We’ll speak more on it later.” But he frowned as the group finally noticed Cersei’s proximity.

Cersei frowned, “I’m sorry if my father has offended you, my lord. I assure you he has treated your siblings and your mother with the utmost care.” She decided to be diplomatic. While she could hardly excuse the brute for his lack of manners, nor his overbearing and overestimation of his self, she could find it in herself to try to be polite, if only for her own safety.

“ Perhaps,” the man replied gruffly, he turned to his eldest brother, “There has been a message from the south. Lord Whent has called a grand tourney in Harrenhal, one so grand all the lords of the realms will attend.”

Tyrion perked up at the side of the wall, where he was still investigating the source of the warmth, “A tourney?”

“ Aye,” the man said, still eyeing her suspiciously, “And I plan on attending, to meet my betrothed before my wedding, and perhaps win the joust. Eddard, you should attend as well, perhaps you can finally meet some lady who will be convinced to marry you!” he jested with a pat on Eddard’s back.

Lyanna giggled, “Bran, you know no one will be able to stand him! He’s just so loud and boisterous.” Eddard frowned at the jape, which made Tyrion laugh, and Cersei put a hand to her mouth to keep her from giggling.

“Who will be the Stark in Winterfell?” Ned asked.

Cersei looked surprised, “Surely you can leave the castle to steward, albeit briefly?”

Lyanna twirled to face her, and gave her a mocking smile, “There must always be a Stark in Winterfell.”

“Uncle Rodrick has descended from the mountains.” the Lord replied, “He will stay in the castle while we are away.” He looked at her, “There are rooms prepared for you and the I... your brother. We shall see you at supper, I hope.” Though gods know he didn’t sound like he meant it, Cersei was glad for the proposition of warm food to eat. The way here had largely been so cold any efforts to keep food warm were quickly defeated.

Cersei exited the room with a servant who showed her the way to her bedroom. It was small, dark, but warm. She noticed, as she entered, Tyrion had been placed next to her, and that, while these were clearly guest chambers, they were both not the most luxurious available, not the most expansive.

She sighed and lay in her cot where her possessions had already been arrayed, deciding to nap briefly before supper. The castle, she decided, was miserable, drab, and above all else, dull. Regardless, she could bare to stand it here a few weeks. She was a lioness of the Rock, and she would not be made weak by a chill.

Oh, but she wished she were home again. Where the walls were inviting, the decorations, well, existent, and Jaime was waiting with hidden kisses and open arms. As she drifted off to sleep, her last thoughts were of her beloved, golden twin.


	5. Jaime I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime is impatient, which is rewarded accordingly.

Jaime paced the tower of the hand's solar. He longed to have a sword in his hand, in the tourney field, the battlefield, it mattered little. Anything, anything other than this monotonous waiting for the council to end and his father to finally speak to him.

He perked up when he heard the sound of knocking on the door. “Come in, come in,” he bade, impatience poorly veiled in his voice.

He was pleasantly surprised when none other than Lyarra went through the door. Though he'd not admitted it, and certainly wouldn't if his sister could ever hear of it, he had begun to think of the woman as a mother. He barely remembered his own mother, and the woman had been so caring, so polite, so kindly, it was all he could do to remember not to call her such, “Jaime, I was hoping to speak to you.”

Jaime tried his best not to look crest fallen, “Of course, my lady.”

She gave a kind smile, “Jaime, I've been taking care of you and your siblings for two years now. You can call me Lyarra.”

“As you wish, Lyarra,” he said, but the word sounded odd on his tongue. He sat down, and the Lady of the Rock took the chair his father normal occupied.

She was studying him as she said, in a kind voice that she always used, “How are you?”

Jaime blinked in surprise, “I'm... fine, I suppose.” He wasn't certain how to answer that question. He was... normal. What else should he be?

Nonetheless, Lyarra seemed to mull over this information, “That's good, then.” she said eventually, “You father may be busy a while yet. Benjen has been sent to go play with the other boys in the castle, but he's still a handful, and with Lord Whent's tourney the king has been acting erratic.”

“Erratic? More than normal?” Jaime questioned, with a golden smile.

Lyarra grinned at the jape, “Yes, I'm afraid. Regardless, he called you here to speak about an important matter, did he not?”

Jaime nodded. He had been called specifically by his father during a practice in the yard, and he knew better than to keep Tywin waiting. But when he arrived, Tywin had only time to invite him to sit before a servant arrived demanding his presence at an 'important emergency session of the small council.'

Lyarra sighed, “I'm afraid that it will have to be me to tell you, then, before the rumors start swirling around the castle.”

“Rumors of what?” Jaime asked, hating the word as he said it. _Gods, I hate intrigue._

Lyarra sighed again, giving a small smile, “You heard new of the tourney, surely?”

Jaime nodded, “Lord Whent is holding it at Harrenhal for his daughter.”

“Aye, she is,” Lyarra confirmed, “Your father will reveal an important piece of news there. Something that is important to you specifically.”

“What is it?” Jaime asked.

“Your betrothal” Lyarra said with a sad smile.

Jaime's eyes widened.  _I'm not supposed to marry, I am to join the Kingsguard at the tourney and serve by Cersei's side._ “Betrothal to who?”

“Lyanna.” came the answer, accompanied by a sympathetic smile.

“Lyanna?!” Jaime didn't bother to hide his shock, “Why would father do that? We already have strong ties to the North. It doesn't make sense!”

“Jaime, please.” Lyarra counciled, a hand placed over his clenched fist, “Your father was merely acting on my suggestion.”

Jaime blinked.  _Lyarra had suggested this?_ He couldn't help but feel betrayed., “Why?”

Lyarra looked visibly haggard by the question, “Jaime, I want for nothing more than you to be happy, and Lyanna too. But this is what is best for the west and the north.”

Jaime shook his head, “No, this isn't. It would be better if I married Lysa Tully, and built ties to the Riverlands, or the Tyrells.”

Lyarra patted his shoulder, “The Tullys have refused your courtship, and the Tyrells have no daughters of age with you. Lyanna is the best match for you left. I know you don't like it, but I promise you can find happiness together.”

Jaime shook his head. It wasn't that he had anything against Lyanna. She was pretty enough, he thought, but she wasn't, well, she wasn't Cersei. Which reminded him, “What about Cersei? What's to become of her?”

A flicker of something kin to disgust flashed across Lyarra's face, but it was quickly replaced by her normal, amicable expression, “She is to marry to as well. I believe your father wants for Robert Baratheon or Edmure Tully, but it is too soon for either to be set in stone.”

Jaime felt grief pang in his heart. She would be shipped off to Riverrun or Storm's End, never to see him again. But he mustered all he had to put on a smile, “Very well. I suppose I must do my duty then?” he said, knowing full well he wouldn't follow through on it. He would join the Kingsguard, dammit, if it was the last thing he did.

Lyarra nodded, “I'm glad you have agreed to it. You'll see in time that this was all for the best.”

Silence hung in the room while Lyanna seemed to think on something, “Jaime...” she began, but was interrupted by a knock on the door, “Come in,” she bade.

A servant entered, “My Lord Lannister, the prince has requested your presence.” The man said curtly.

“Prince Rhaegar?” Jaime asked, dumbstruck for the second time in as many minutes.

Lyarra chuckled, “I dare say Prince Viserys is not old enough to summon a stranger.”

Jaime tried to laugh at the jape, but stood and made for the door anyway, “Thank you, my lady, for speaking to me.”

“Of course, Jaime,” she said with a smile that reminded Jaime much of his own mother. He smiled in return, and made his way towards the prince's solar. He arrived, finding the Sword of the Morning at the door.

“Ser Arthur,” Jaime said with a smile to the silver haired white knight who had knighted him not a few moons past.

“Ser Jaime, here to see the prince?” he said with an equal easy smile. He knocked and leaned into the room, muttering something behind the door, before opening the way for the young Lannister heir.

“Lord Jaime, come in,” Rhaegar said, looking up from work while his dornish wife sat next to him, a babe in her arms. He gave a nod to him as he said so, sending his silver locks scattering and causing his baby daughter to laugh.

“Your grace,” Jaime replied, bowing quickly. And standing, trying desperately to keep his knees from knocking.

Rhaegar chuckled, “You can sit, my Lord.”

Jaime quickly did so with a, “Thank you, your grace.”

Elia chuckled, her brown eyes flashing with a sharpness that Jaime had not expected,“So eager, Rhaegar. I do hope you have something suitable for the young man.”

The silver prince smiled at his wife, kissing her on the forehead, “I'm afraid I must see the man privately, Elia.”

The princess frowned, but nodded curtly and rose to leave the room. Rhaegar waited until he heard the door close before he began, “You must know that I am aware of your father's intentions to marry you to Lyanna Stark.”

“Your grace?” Jaime asked, trying to play dumb.

“Perhaps he hasn't told you, but that much is true,” Rhaegar continued, his voice never rising, staying at it's calm low roll, “That much is not what I wished to speak on, the issue is simple, my father is looking for an excuse to attack your father, and if he finds one the realm will bleed.” Jaime looked at the man with wide eyes. Rhaegar frowned, “At Harrenhal, certain things will be discussed, certain matters... expanded on. I need people I can trust to support me, can I trust you?” The prince asked Jaime with a pointed look.

_He wants me to be at his side, as a Kingsguard?Why else would he have mentioned the betrothal to Lyanna?_ “I will not disappoint you, your grace.” Jaime answered with a determined look.

Rhaegar smiled, “That is good. Go on now, I imagine this will not be the last time we speak, my lord.”

Jaime nodded and left the room, giving a passing smile to Ser Arthur Dayne as he left. He would join the Kingsguard and serve the prince as he wanted. He thought a moment to Lyanna, and smiled. Gods only know how much ache it would cause to be married to  _her,_ but then he thought on Cersei and felt unsure. Could he abandon her to the Tullys or the Baratheon Lord while he served his prince?

Jaime shook his head. This was for the greater good, for the realm. He would be a true knight, a good knight, he would not fail his prince.


	6. Cersei II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arrival in Harrenhal, disappointment ensues.

"There it is!" Tyrion pointed at the foreboding fortress excitedly from Ned's horse. _Eddard,_ Cersei corrected, best not to be too familiar with these... people.

Lord Brandon snorted, and Cersei felt a rising rage. He had no right to insult a Lannister. Besides, Tyrion had twice the brain that brute had, and he was less than half his age. If she were honest, the only one in the entire Star family who seemed to have any sense was Lyarra. Well, maybe Ned as well, but she wasn't certain, he was always so... distant.

"Lya, watch that boy now. We wouldn't want the lords of the realm to see his face, now would we?" the man mocked with a smile. Tyrion scrunched closer to his riding mate.

Lyanna, to her credit, gave a vicious glare, "Perhaps we should lock you away as well. Afterall, if we let the lords of the realm see you, they will think poorly of us Starks. Truly, I pity Catelyn Tully for being stuck with you for her life."

Cersei giggled, earning her a scorching glare from the Lord Stark. She smiled at that as well, and so held herself aloof. Lyanna gave a glance over to her, "So proud, Lady Lannister? I would think you would get defensive of your younger brother when he has been dishonored."

 _Oh, that bitch_ , "No more defensive than you were when you elder brother was being treated to the same. But, then, I seem to recall that it was you doing the dishonoring there." She hadn't forgotten all the guile her father drilled into her head during her time in the frozen north.

The girl's gray eyes went wild, "You piss-yellow..."

"Lyanna." Eddard interrupted with a firm look.

The girl sneered at her level headed brother, "She..."

"Defended herself when her honor was called into question. Questions that you raised, mind." Eddard reminded evenly.

Cersei gave a venomous smile, "Thank you Lord Stark."

He sighed and hung his head in response. So the party found themselves as they entered Harrenhal, greeted by a servant in Lannister red, "My lords and ladies Stark and Lannister, your parents are waiting for you in the great hall along with your siblings. The royal party has only ust arrived, and a fest is being gathered to welcome them."

Eddard and Lyanna made off immediately for the stable, but Brandon made some excuse, and rode away. _For the best really, father would make mincemeat of him._ The great hall of Harrenhal was, like the rest of the castle, a ruin, but a well furnished ruin, with wealth and livery draped like curtains in a mummer's show.

The party was not given chance to change out of travel attire, so they walk in brown and leather, with only Tyrion wearing so much as a doublet. Before they entered, however, a man with black hair and sea-blue eyes went to Eddard, "Ned, finally come down to see us again. Glad you haven't abandoned me to Denys."

Eddard laughed, "It's good to see you Robert, where's Denys and Jon?"

Robert smiled, but said, "In their tents, didn't bother to come for Tywin's big announcement." Cersei smiled politely at who she assumed to be the lord of the Stormlands, but she noticed him staring too long at Lyanna, who simply walked past, paying him no mind.

Tywin was seated next to Lyarra at one of the long tables leading to the front of the room, Benjen to one side, about a head taller than she remembered him, and, to her delight, Jaime on the other. The head places of the room vacant save three seats containing Lord Whent and his sons, his daughter on the opposite side.

"Lyanna, Eddard, Cersei, Tyrion," Lyarra rattled off effortlessly, "sit, we have much to discuss."

Tywin noded as they approach, and they sat at the prepared places on the table, Starks with Starks and Lannisters with Lannisters. Cersei gave a smile to her twin, who, to her dismay, was looking at Lyanna with a completely blank stare. But before she could ask him what the matter was, a silence spread over the room, and, when Cersei spun to look at the head of the table, saw the gaunt, frail form of the king enter sit at his seat. She saw the Stark sibling's eyes widen at the sight, and remembered that neither had seen the old man before, didn't know the extent of his madness and frailty. Next to him sat the Queen, her youngest son, and on the opposite side the beautiful prince of Dragonstone and his wife and child.

The king said nothing, just pointing to her father, who made her way to the front of the room and, in a thunderous voice, "His grace the king Aerys of House Targaryen, second of his name, king of the Andals the Rhoynar and the First Men, would like to thank the Lord Walter When for his invitation to this tourney in his daughters honor." Tyrin paused for the assembled crowd to applaud, "His grace has also given me leave to make my own announcement. As you may well know, my son and heir, ser Jaime Lannister, is as of yet unwed and unpromised," there was a quiet muttering in the room, "It is my pleasure to announce my son is now betrothed to my wife's daughter, Lady Lyanna of house Stark."

There was another round of applause, but Cersei felt her heart sink. She blinked back tears, and instead pushed away sadness for rage. She looked her brother in the eyes, who was in turn staring at her, and scowled. He gave her pleading eyes, and Cersei looked away, somewhat relieved that he was as happy about this as she was. Cersei and everyone else was pushed out of the way for the unhappy couple to be forced to sit together, and Cersei felt another rush of relief seeing the angry Lyanna staring daggers at her brother.

She pushed against the crowd, and found herself next to the frequently congratulated couple, and leaned close to Jaime, "Brother, congratulations," she said through gritted teeth, "I would love the chance to speak to you after the feast."

Jaime nodded eagerly, and Cersei found her way back to her seat. Lyanna kept giving glares to a bewildered Eddard, who was as shocked with the announcement as everyone else seemed to be. She only glanced at Cersei a moment, and even then all she did was scowl.

The night went on without much comment, and by the end the parties, worn out now, were seen to their chambers. Cersei thanked the servant and made her way to where her brother's chambers were. She opened the door, looking around to ensure no distractions were present, and entered to find Jaime, head hung down, face in his hands.

He looked up and a glimmer of hope flashed in his emerald eyes, "Cersei!" he said, and ran up to kiss her. She pushed him back with one hand, and at his wild expression scowled.

"You're betrothed to that Stark whore." Cersei said callously.

"Lyanna isn't a whore, Cersei," Jaime replied, blinking.

Cersei felt a cool rage settle over her, "Oh, so she's much more than that to you, is she? I take it you'll be happy then."

"I don't want to marry her, Cersei," Jaime said pleadingly, but the look in his eyes was all wrong.

Cersei was in a blind rage, "You weren't surprised to hear the news, how long have you known?"

"Cersei..." He lacked the conviction he once had, he _should_ have.

"As long as the last time we saw each other? Did you know you would be wedding her when you were fucking me?" Cersei spat.

"No! By the gods I didn't know until just before we left. Cersei I don't want to marry her." Jaime tried to calm her.

"Of course you don't," Cersei said with a smile, suddenly remembering the plan, "You won't after all. You're to join the Kingsguard."

"Yes, but, Cersei..." Jaime said pleadingly again.

Cersei's eyes widened in scorn, "Have you forgotten so soon? About what we spoke of before you left last?"

Jaime deflated, "I have not forgotten, but Cersei, father will try and stop me. Even Prince Rhaegar told me to join the kingsguard, but how can I now?"

Cersei was surprised to hear the last part, but she knew she had won, "Well, we musn't refuse the prince." She said with a sickenly sweet smile, mind suddenly forming a plan.

"Cersei, what do you plan on..." Jaime began, putting his hand on her shoulder.

She kissed him, pulling away to say, "Don't worry, brother, you will not marry the Stark girl."

"Cersei..."

Her hands went to his cheek, "You will join the Kingsguard like we planned, you will serve and I will be with you at court." She continued kissing him.

Jaime shook his head, breathing out between kisses, "How?"

Cersei pushed him onto the bed, straddling him and letting him put his hands in her hair, "Leave that to me, brother dearest, you will leave this castle wearing white."


	7. Lyanna II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brandon shouts, Tywin growls, Rhaegar mediates, and Lyanna endures.

"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!" Lyanna watched, forgotten in an adjacent room of the castle, while Brandon shouted at Tywin, being restrained by two guards.

Lyarra stood in the way of the two lords paramount, "Brandon, please..."

"HOW DARE YOU?!" Brandon demanded, but Tywin gave a withering glare.

"I have every right, lord Stark." Tywin replied cooly, "She is my ward and gooddaughter."

"She is a STARK!" Brandon screamed in response, and turned as he saw Eddard enter the room, "Ned, how can you allow this?"

Eddard's shoulder sagged, "Brandon, patience, please..."

"Patience?" the wild wolf demanded, shaking free of the restraints on his shoulders. He marched forward, and stood menacingly over his younger brother, "You are too far under his spell, brother. I shouldn't have let you go to the Vale, let alone the Rock."

"Brandon, calm yourself," Ned plead, putting a hand to his elder brother's shoulder, "You are not thinking clearly."

"I am plenty calm!" Brandon retorted giving a look of betrayal before, bellowing and spinning to face the lord of Casterly Rock, "He has made a mockery of our house before the whole realm! This betrothal will not stand."

"Brandon, please," Lyarra plead, "This is a good match, better than any other you may find."

"Better?" Brandon demanded, "My sister is worth far more than a marriage to some over pampered boy barely off the teat, and that is all Tywin offers me. I say 'offer' as if he so much as tried to ask for my consent!"

"Pardon me, my lords," came a voice like a coiled serpent from the entry, "I couldn't help but overhear." The silver haired man at the table from the night previous was walking into the room while a knight with a white cloak followed him.

"Your grace," Lord Tywin said smoothly, "This is a private matter. I apologize, but I must request you leave."

"You'll forgive my refusal," the prince said, smiling easily, "But when the lords of two of the greatest kingdoms of my father's realm are at each other's throats, it is no longer a private matter." He turned to face Brandon, "My Lord Stark, I understand that you have been offended by Lord Tywin."

The wild wolf growled at the silver prince, "Lord Tywin," he spat, "Has seen it fit to sell off my sister without my permission."

"A crime to be reprimanded to be sure, should it be unjust," Rhaegar said easily, giving a sly smile to Lyanna, "But our Lord Hand has the voice of the king, and as such can invoke the right to marry any subjects of the realm."

"The king has no such right!" protested Brandon, now walking menacingly towards the prince.

"I'm afraid he does," Prince Rhaegar chided, "Unless, of course, the woman is already betrothed." Rhaegar said, with a knowing look.

Brandon's eyes widened, then narrowed, "Well, that settles it then. The betrothal is broken."

Rhaegar raised an eyebrow, "Oh? And who was her betrothal to?"

"Willam Dustin, Lord of Barrowton." Brandon replied, a smirk on his face, "I can hardly break a betrothal to one of my bannermen without consequence."

Rhaegar looked visibly annoyed by the declaration, "I don't suppose lord Dustin knows of the arrangement?" he sighed.

"Lord Dustin will do his duty to his liege lord," Brandon answered in a snarl, "My family, of course, will be expected to attend," he said with a victorious look at Tywin.

Lord Tywin returned with a growl, "Given the circumstances," he said coldly, "I would imagine Lord Dustin would have to accept the betrothal before any arrangements could be made in that regard."

"He is right, Lord Brandon," Rhaegar chided, "Should he refuse..."

"Then nothing!" Brandon shouted suddenly, startling many in the room but merely annoying Lyanna.

"Do I get a say in any of this?" Lyanna asked as she finally made her appearance.

The room spun to face her, Eddard looking haggard by her appearance, Brandon confused, Tywin calculating and Rhaegar... Prince Rhaegar looked amused.

"My Lady?" the silver prince asked.

Lyanna snorted in response, "Your grace, are you as eager to sell me off as the rest of my family is?" she asked in mock sweetness.

Rhaegar smirked, "I am merely a mediator, my lady."

"Lyanna..." Brandon said in a growl, but Ned cut him off short.

"Peace, brother." he plead pushing his over aggressive brother back, who gave him a glare in return, "Lord Dustin is coming for the joust, is he not?" Brandon nodded slowly, rage still plain on his face. "Then we will wait for his arrival to decide what will happen."

Brandon shook his brothers hand off of him, glaring as he left the room. Rhaegar bowed to Lord Tywin and exited shortly after him, giving a final smile to Lyanna as he left. Lyanna scoffed and went back into her room, slamming the door shut behind her, and faintly hearing the familiar sound of her brother sighing muffled afterwards. She kept her ear by the door until she heard "I am going to find him and make sure he doesn't kill anyone," from Ned, then sat down on her bed.

Thoughts spun through her head. They're giving me to either the drunken Dustin or Jaime. All without ever asking me. She knew her brother had a temper, after all, they called him the wild wolf, but she never thought he would be so... arrogant. And why did he keep looking at Ned like he betrayed him? Ned would never do that, he's the best of us.

She was sprawled on the bed for hours, deep in thought before a firm knock came on the door. "Ned, what do you want."

"I am not your brother," came the voice of Tywin, "and I wish to talk."

She gathered herself in moments, before opening the door to allow the Lannister into the room. He sat at the small table, and motioned for Lyanna to sit opposite him. She did so, and looked expectantly at him, who returned with a studious look before saying, slowly, "Your brother acted very foolishly."

"Brandon is not called the wild wolf lightly, my Lord." Lyanna replied evenly.

Tywin raised an eyebrow, "Indeed? Regardless, I am here to assure you that you will not be marrying Lord Willam."

Lyanna studied him, "How can you be certain?"

"Because it is well known that the Lord of Barrowton has his eyes set on the lady Barbrey Ryswell." Lord Tywin said, unfazed, "And your brother owes the lady a favor."

Lyanna shook her head, "So I still have no choice in the matter?"

Tywin shrugged, "I was not the one who arranged the marriage. It was your mother who thought of it, and I agreed as it was beneficial to all involved."

Lyanna's eyes widened, "Why?"

"She thought it better you marry someone you know than allow some elderly lord to mistreat you," Tywin commented, "And I thought it best my son marry someone who belonged to a great house to strengthen our ties to other houses. This satisfies both."

Lyanna wasn't certain what to make of that. She had never seen the man before her as a kindly one. She respected him for his shrewdness and the love her mother seemed to have for him, but felt no warmth from the man's presence. But this act was unusually forward of him, as if he worried for her feelings, "Thank you for telling me."

Tywin seemed surprised by the response, but nodded nonetheless. A knock came on the door, and he frowned, "I fear I must leave you." He rose to the door, and gave one last look at Lyanna, "I would recommend seeing your brothers soon. Gods know we must have peace between our houses."

"Why?" Lyanna asked.

He turned, "War is coming, Lyanna, and I fear we may be at the center of it."


	8. Howland I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the Starks! feat. A vertically challenged swamp man

The men of the swamps held several cryptic things as truth. First was death, always on the horizon, always lurking. Next was honor, true and just, never to be distempered. And last was the most cryptic of the bunch. That the end of all things will begin with a song.

Or, Howland reasoned, the beginning of all things will start with a song. Unfortunately, the tale was told both ways. Either way, that was what was not what was on the young lord of the marsh's mind.

Indeed not. What was on his mind was the cruelty of the men of the south, and how incredibly painful the kicks being thrown at him were. He was curled over in pain, as hit after hit came raining down from the three squires.

"Frog fucker!" jeered the tallest and most vicious of the group.

The others laughed as they continued their cruelty, when a sudden shout came from behind them. The squires glanced at the source, but it was obstructed and Howland could barely hear it over the ringing in his ears.

"I said!" came a female voice, when the kicking stopped. Howland opened his eyes to see a young, raven haired woman twirl a blade in her practiced hand, "Get away!"

The young men were badly beaten, and they ran away with one last glare at Howland. He got to his feet, and met the girl eye to eye, "Many thanks, my lady."

"It is nothing," the woman replied, picking up his three pronged spear and handing it back to him, "I am Lyanna Stark."

Howland's eyes widened and he dropped to his knee, "I am Lord Howland Reed, my lady."

When he looked up, she was clearly surprised, "I am no lady," she replied. He got back to his feet, when he felt a wash of pain come over him.

"You're hurt," Lyanna said, helping him stand steady, "Get on the horse," she commanded, and wordlessly Howland did so, "Come now, Lord Reed. My Brother will want to see his bannerman."

"Thank you, my lady," Howland said, when more pain bloomed through him. He was trying his best to fight off the red tint in his vision when they arrived in one of the keeps of Harrenhal. After ascending a few flights of stairs, Howland found himself in a well lit room, where his liege lord was busy shouting at his brother.

"How can you defend him, Ned?" Brandon shouted back.

The smaller one, Eddard, Howland reasoned, replied, "I am not defending him. I am stating the truth. But even if I were defending him, I would not be amiss, given how he has kept us well in his keep these two years." The man's voice was shockingly calm. He turned to see the newcomers, "Lyanna, who is this?"

"Howland Reed, your bannerman," Lyanna replied with a pointed look at Brandon. She brought theman carefully onto the couch on the side of the room, "Call a master for him, Benjen."

Howland saw a small boy, who had been hiding in the corner of the room, nod and bolt out of the room. The wild wolf looked at him with uncertain eyes, "How did this happen?"

"There were three squires who ganged up on him," Lyanna replied, fury in her eyes, "You could have been there to protect him, but you were too busy screaming at Ned for nothing he did."

Brandon looked dumbfounded. Something in his face suggested to Howland that he felt genuine shame that his bannerman had been attacked by southrons without his knowing, "Lyanna..."

"If you're not going to promise to stop acting like such a spiteful fool, say nothing, brother." she said with all the fury the woman could muster.

Brandon looked crestfallen, "You want to wed that golden haired prick?"

"And what difference would it make?" Lyanna challenged, steeping close to her brother, "You never once asked, did you? You never even asked your friend Willam, did you? Never thought about what he wanted did you?"

Brandon looked as if he had finally been browbeaten enough, when the maester arrived.

"Brandon, if this marriage happened, it would only help your plans." Eddard plead.

Lyanna looked at her brother, "What plans?"

"The plans were our lord father's, not mine," Brandon growled back.

"What plans!" demanded Lyanna as the master began examining Howland's wounds, the green eyed lord busy intent on listening to the words of the Starks.

Brandon sighed, "Father planned to build a canal from the Barrow Lake to the White Knife. I had wanted Ned to build a castle at the mouth of the Barrow to become our new main port in the west."

The plan ran through Howland's mind. A canal? That would be hundreds of miles long, at least, "How would you tunnel through the hills of the barrows?" Was all he could think to ask.

The starks turned to him at once, and Eddard said, "There was evidently vestiges of an ancient canal found not long ago that would provide a way for the river to simply ride around the hills most of the way there. It seems it might be a simple task to build, so long as you build the first forty miles of it or so."

"Which is why we need Lord Dustin's support. With his men we could finish that in a few years." Brandon countered angrily.

The crannogman was wide eyed with the implications of such a plan, but Lyanna jutted into the conversation, "This is insanity. Even if I married the brute, which neither of us would very much like, it would still never work. You will bankrupt house Stark!"

"Lyanna, I..." Brandon began.

"Brandon," Eddard's cool head came into play again, "We cannot be at each other's throats, nor can we lose Lyanna."

The lord looked at his younger brother carefully, "What would you have me do, brother?"

"Be patient, do not rage against those who have done you no wrong, and reconsider what you feel," Eddard answered carefully.

Brandon looked down, crestfallen, as if he had lost what will he had left to fight in one gentle word from his brother, "Very well, shall I stay with you a while yet?"

"No, leave us." she commanded, and the lord, though with some trepidation, left the room.

Eddard sat at Howland's side, "My Lord Reed." He said with a curt nod.

"Lord Eddard, he truly plans on uniting the seas?" the green eyed man asked.

Ned nodded, "He meant to speak with you and the other lords of it soon. While the canal would not cross into your lands, it would provide more difficulty to those south of it to cross farther north."

Howland nodded, "I believe it would not affect my people much. We are reserved folk."

"Indeed," Lord Eddard replied politely. Lord Howland smiled at the man's tone. He was quiet, as he had so often heard, and to the Crannogman, he seemed a kindred spirit.

A small voice came from the tent flap. Howland spun, expecting the dark haired boy from before, but instead found a small golden haired dwarf in the entry. "Lya, is he still here?" he intoned with a tremor in his voice.

The she-wolf smiled kindly, "He left, come in Little Lion."

The boy ran to the couch, hopping onto the lady's lap, "I saw all sorts of people! like there was the Tyrells and the Boltons and the..." he began speaking faster than Howland believed he had heard anyone speak before.

Eddard smiled, while his sister gave a wolfish grin, "And how did you know who they were?"

Tyrion gave a huge grin, "I remembered the banners!"

Lyanna giggled at some inside joke while her brother looked on gently but silently, just like Howland. The two chatted anxiously while the two lords remained silent until one question from Lyanna peaked their interest, "Have you seen your brother and sister?"

The boy's smile faltered, "Only Jaime. And he only asked where Cersei was." He frowned at mention of her name, "They've been whispering a lot to each other recently."

Eddard frowned, prompting Lyanna to remark, "They're plotting something."

The Quiet Wolf nodded solemnly, "It does not bode well."

Howland looked at the two curiously, "If I may, what are they plotting?"

"I don't know," admitted Eddard grimly, "But I fear we will all know soon."

The lord went back to his silence, and, before long, left the tent, escorting the Lannister boy with him. Howland attempted to follow, but Lyanna insisted he stay with the Stark household that night, “It doesn’t do to have a Lord of the North slighted by southrons.”

“Thank you, my Lady,” Howland said bowing his head as best he could.

She gave a smile, “Call me Lyanna”

“Very well, Lyanna,” Howland replied, “But I fear the squires will come after me again.”

The lady considered this a while, “No,” she said eventually, giving a grin that was so sinister Howland suspected that she could kill a man with it alone, “We will have your revenge.”


	9. Eddard II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking, threatening, calming, goading, dancing, oh my!

It had been a confusing day. Evidently there was some manner of anger expressed for the mystery knight who had appeared, magically, to defend the honor of the Crannog lord. Eddard had watch the scene unfold, noticing how very odd a warrior of the north would come unannounced, and flee before the mad king could call for his head. He also noticed how eerily similar the size of the knight of the laughing and his sister Lyanna was.

Eddard found himself contemplating his next course of action sitting next to his sister the next day, sitting at the stark table next to his younger brother, opposite the Lannister table where his mother and adopted siblings sat under the watchful gaze of the Lannister patriarch. He gave a subtle gaze at his sister and noticed a purple bloom on her arm, right where the mystery knight had been hit by a lance. Ned leaned towards her, "The bruise is showing."

Lyanna adjusted her dress mindlessly, before widening her eyes and spinning to look at him, "How?"

"You need to be more careful," Eddard replied, "The king has been in a fit all day about it, he's sent Robert after you."

Lyanna scowled in response, "Robert's your friend. He won't hurt me."

"No, he won't," admitted Ned, "But the prince? He already found your armor."

"He wouldn't either." Lyanna replied, no longer looking at him. Ned followed her gaze and drew a breath when he saw the silver prince.

"Lyanna..." Ned warned, "He found you didn't he?"

His sister didn't respond, only watching as the prince went to a high harp.

Ned grimaced," Lyanna what did you do?"

"We just talked," Lyanna replied not looking, "He..."

She was interrupted by the King raising a gnarled finger to indicate the beginning of prince Rhaegar's playing. The prince began with a few simple notes, low and yet joyful, and the room fell into a hush. The music continued, and the room swayed u see it's weight as the low notes began rising, until the harp seemed to be crying out it's pain in a beautiful madness like nothing anyone had heard before. Ned flinched as he heard a small, sharp intake of breath and turned to see his sister's eyes welling up.

The music ended triumphantly, and all the blushing maidens of the realm gawked over the silver prince, but Lyanna merely stood there as if trying to convince the world she weren't affected.

Benjen looked up, and with a wicked grin cried, "Lya why are you crying? LYA'S CRYING!"

Ned watched while the girl dumped her wine over the boys head in anguish, wondering all the while why her sister was crying. He hadn't the time to ask as she stormed off towards the other end of the table with Ben fleeing the other direction, leaving him alone.

Ned sighed, sitting down as the dance music began playing. He watched the world turn about him when he noticed the Crannog lord sit across from him.

"Howland," he said in greeting. Ned was glad for the distraction. He was now good friends with the lordling, and had even been honored with an invitation to Greywater Watch.

"Ned," the man replied, haunting green eyes focusing on him, " I have to apologize."

The quiet wolf raised an eyebrow, "what for, my friend?"

"I'm afraid I may have endangered your sister." He said, bowing his head, "the..."

"We needn't speak of it here." Ned replied quickly before the booming voice of his brother came from behind him.

"Talk later about what?" Brandon asked, placing a hand on Ned's shoulder.

"Nothing of consequence, my Lord," Howland replied evenly, bowing to his liege lord.

Brandon frowned slightly, "I see, can I trouble you to allow me a few moments privacy with my brother, Lord Reed? It is of the utmost importance."

"Of course, Lord Stark, Ned," Howland said, bowing his head in farewell.

Eddard wheeled to see his older brother looking at him with warm eyes and followed him as he led to a secluded corner of the Stak area, far enough away to be free from prying eyes and ears. Then the act dropped, and his demeanor went cold, "I have been wondering about your loyalties recently, my brother."

"Loyalties, Bran?" Eddard questioned.

His brother turned and leaned against the bannister separating them from the rest of the hall, "You are my heir, at least until I marry Lady Tully, and I need you to be my most loyal bannerman, Eddard. Do you understand that?"

Ned noded, "Of course, Bran, why would I be anything else?"

Brandon frowned, "Then why are you following those Lannisters like a pup to a bitch?"

Ned sighed, "Bran, we can't fight them needlessly, surely even you in your hate understand that? They've done nothing to us, we've suffered no slight, and yet you fight them like a mad dog. How does that reflect on us?"

Bran said nothing, only grimacing under the weight of the words, so Ned continued, "You could be the greatest Lord of Winterfell since the Age of Heroes, but if we fight a pointless war with Casterly Rock, we'll lose the North regardless."

Bran sighed, body collapsing finally, "You're right," He buried his face in his hands before chuckling, "Of course you're right, you're Ned, you always were the best of us." He brought himself back to his full height, smiling at his younger brother, "I almost forgot," he said reaching into his pocket, "You'll need these."

He handed Ned a small pile of parchment, on the top of which was, in simple lettering, ' _Wolfsport: Plans,'_ "These are already done?" Ned asked, looking up at his brother.

Brandon nodded, "Yes,they have been for a while now, but I only just received them. The western coast needs a defence, and that defence needs a home port. I'm trusting you with this, Ned. If it works, it will make the North strong, stronger than it's been since Brandon the Burner."

Ned said nothing, only looking back down at the plans, shuffling few them for a moment before asking, "Who made these?"

"A Yi Tish man who came to White Harbor, said he was an architect. Lord Manderly sent him to Winterfell, and he proved to me he was good by building a wood model, so I gave him the job. I think it worked out well." Bran said in a nonchalant tone, "Bah, that's enough business for now, Ned. We're at a feast, after all. Let's enjoy it." He intoned taking a long swig of ale from a flask he carried on his belt.

Ned gave a half smile and turned to look at the swirling crowd. The Lords and Ladies of the realm were out in all their finery, silk and cloth of gold swirled about the dance floor. Ned's eyes however, were drawn to the Lannister table, where Tywin was saying something to Lyarra, then looked directly at him. ned raised an eyebrow in silent question of the purpose of the action, but before he could get a response, a great hand clapped his back, "She is lovely isn't she?" came Brandon's voice.

Ned was going to ask who he meant, when he noticed the dark haired beauty dancing with a dornishman in front of the Lannister table, "Oh, no, Bran..." He began.

"Aren't you going to ask her to dance?" Bran goaded with a smile Ned remembered from his youth. He suddenly remembered the young, carefree Brandon, who was quick with a smile and quicker with a laugh. Even so, he felt heat rush to his cheeks, "I don't know if..."

Brandon barked a laugh and with a warm smile remarked, "Too shy, eh? You are my brother after all."

Ned chuckled fondly at the memories of their shared childhood, when Bran suddenly got a wicked look in his eye, "Well, I'll ask her for you!" He declared jovially.

Ned's smile dropped like a brick, "No, Bran..." But his brother had already leaped over the bannister and made his way to the woman. Ned could do nothing as he watched the two converse, his brother eventually turning to invite him over. With a sigh of defeat, he made his way to the woman and his brother.

Bran gave a clap to his shoulder before disappearing into the crowd, leaving him to converse with the woman with dark hair and vio... violet eyes. _Seven hells, she's beautiful._

"My Lord," she greeted with a sly smile, holding out a dainty hand.

"My Lady," Ned quickly regained his composure, "May I have this dance?"

She giggled mischievously, "I believe your brother already asked, and I already accepted."

Ned gave a nervous chuckle in response, "He can be a little..."

"Forward?" she suggested with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

Ned sighed as they stepped into dance, "I suppose. Ah, I'm afraid I must apologize my lady, but I may I have the honor of learning your name?" He asked realizing he had no name for the lovely face he was dancing with.

She smiled, "Oh, but I was having so much fun, dancing with a mystery man, neither of us knowing the other's name. I'll only tell if you do."

"My name is Eddard Stark," Ned replied quickly, suddenly dying to know hers.

She grinned evilly, "Stark? Am I going to be carried away by you savage northman?" Ned froze, not certain what to do or say, prompting more giggling from the woman, "Oh, that's right. My name is Ashara Dayne."

"A pleasure to meet you Lady Dayne," Ned tried.

"And you, Lord Stark." She replied with a smile that could melt a frozen heart.

"If you wish, my lady, you may call me Ned," he replied trying to deflect as much awkwardness as possible.

"I insist you call me Ashara." She replied coyly, and they danced a while longer, only stopping when the song finally ended, "I must say, Ned, you are quite the dancer. I did not know northman were so adept."

"Thank you my Lady, I learned from my Lady mother." Ned replied quickly, with a small smile.

"I thought I told you to call me Ashara," she replied with a smile, "Is that your mother there? I wouldn't think her much a dancer," she asked, pointing to Maege Mormont who sat at the Northman table.

Ned chuckled, "Lady Mormont is not my mother, though I agree she is likely not much a dancer." He pointed at Lyarra, "My mother is there, next to Lord Lannister, her husband."

Ashara's eyes widened as she spun to look at the couple, "Your mother is the new Lady Lannister?" then she paused, "Of course, how could I have forgotten? The whole realm heard of it not two years hence."

Ned sighed, "Aye, and not many favored it."

Ashara turned back to him, studying him briefly before remarking, "I admit, Ned, you have me curious."

"Curious, My... Ashara?" Ned quickly corrected.

She giggled again, "Your Ashara? My, my, Lord Stark, rather presumptuous of you. I had heard rumors of a Lord Stark leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake, but now I wonder if they weren't mistaking which Stark brother was responsible."

Ned blushed mightily, beginning to dance as the musicians struck up a new tune, "I apologize, Ashara, I merely meant to ask why you find me curious."  
Ashar smiled brilliantly, and Ned felt something stir within him, "You are curious, Lord Stark. Your brother is the Lord of Winterfell, and your mother the Lady of Casterly Rock. You live in the presence of such power, and yet they call you the quiet wolf. Any number of men would do anything they could to gain a slice of what is their families."

Ned grimaced, "That would not be honorable. And besides, I do not wish for it."

Ashara smiled, "Indeed it would not, and yet so many lesser men would try."

Ned winced, "I do not know anything of that"

"No?" Ashara asked, a wry smile tugging at her rosy lips, "Perhaps it's true what they say of the honor of northman. You haven't even let your hands wander, and you've tried your damndest to keep your eyes on mine and not my bosom."

Ned blushed again, "I try, my... Ashara."

"This again? And without so much as a compliment, as well." Ashara said, still smiling.

Ned suddenly flustered, realizing he hadn't once praised the lady he had shared two dances with, "I..."

"Oh please, I get enough compliments of my beauty from lords who wish to bed me as it is." Ashara responded rolling her eyes.

Ned frowned, "I didn't mean... I mean I don't wish..."

"Oh, I know, I don't believe you could be half as dishonorable as to bed a maiden before she's wed." Ashara replied smoothly.

Ned recovered as best he could, "Still, it's imprudent to not pay compliment to the most lovely woman in the realm." He tried, silently cursing himself for how forced and insincere it sounded.

"I'm the most beautiful woman in the realm, then? Why thank you, Ned. Hmm... Lord Grandison is quite comely, don't you think? He may well be the most beautiful man in the realm. Well, we should wed immediately, imagine how our children may look!" Ashara replied, her purple eyes growing colder.

Ned couldn't help but laugh despite the tug of guilt he felt at having accidentally insulted Ashara, "Your wit is mighty, Ashara. I shouldn't like to have you angry with me, I don't imagine I'd be able to walk away."

"My wit? Now I don't believe I've been complimented on that before, well done, Ned." Ashara said, looking mockingly impressed as the second song ended, "I apologize, but I don't think it would be fair to Lord Grandison should I share a third dance with you," she jested lightly.

"Of course, thank you for dancing with me, Lady Ashara," Ned said with a smile.

She turned and looked bemusedly at him, "You are quite curious Lord Eddard, I should like to speak with you again."

"I look forward to it," he replied eagerly.

She gave him one last smile, then turned and disappeared into the crowd.


	10. Howland II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The roses are in season

The stands were rumbling in anticipation after the second to last bout, where Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, was dismounted by a lance from the Dragon two friends laughed off the tourney grounds, clasping one another on the back as they went. It had been the second bout of the day, the first ending when ser Jaime Lannister was beaten by ser Barristan Selmy. Now the Dragon Prince returned to the fore, his black armor gleaming in the sun as the white knight Barristan Selmy was opposite him.

Howland was sat next to Eddard on the Lannister stands, waiting for the first joust to begin, noticing the Lannister twins sat below them, speaking and plotting in hushed tones while their little brother sat happily next to Lyanna.

"The Dragon's having a hard time felling a bale of hay!" A loud voice called from above, and Howland turned to see the rambunctious Lord of the Stormlands, "Perhaps we could find a farmer who could lend him a scythe." He jested as he sat next to Howland, grinning at Ned.

Ned chuckled, "I imagine it would take more than a scythe to fell Barristan the Bold." He replied with mirth.

Robert laughed, then turned to the young Neck lord, "And who is this, a replacement for me?" he asked.

"I am Lord Howland Reed, my lord." Howland greeted with a respectful nod.

Robert laughed, "You may be as solemn as Ned. A poor replacement, then!" He chuckled, "A shame we have to meet here. I never much liked the tastes of the Western lords," He continued chatting with Ned, but Howland found his attention drift back to the riders. Howland leaned in his seat next to the wolves of the north, Eddard to his left, to the left of him Lyanna, all transfixed as the two riders found their marks and spurred their steeds to gallop. Brandon had huffed earlier about how he should have entered the lists, as he could have beaten all the competitors, save perhaps the prince, but Ned reassured him of his choice not to. Howland agreed with Ned, but couldn't deny some small part of him wished that Brandon did participate and get hurt, if only so Ned could be Lord of Winterfell. He brushed such thoughts aside, and instead watched the two champions close and lances break to the cheering of the crowd. They galloped again to opposite sides and retrieved new lances. They passed again, and again, and again, to the point of boring Howland and making him question the whole exercise. It's a small wonder this hasn't caught on in the north, for all its excitement.

He knew who would win, who must win, or at least he suspected as much. His father had spent years of his life looking through the marsh runes for the full prophecy of Ice and Fire, but it was difficult to decipher, and Howland had continued that work after he rediscovered his father's notes after his untimely death. His father and figured out the dragon referred to Targareyans, but it was Howland that suspected the bat castle to be Harrenhal. At least, he hoped he was correct in that assumption.

Howland's doubts immediately were abated as Rhaegar's lance through ser Barristan from his mount, casting him on the ground to the roar of the crowd.

The Dragon prince did a victory lap, riding to the stands where Lord Whent sat next to the King, who for his part looked unperturbed, or at least as perturbed as he normally was. He held his lance high, and lord whent placed the wreath of blue winter roses, the crown for the Queen of Love and Beauty, on the the tip to the roaring of the crowd. Rhaegar rode around, toward the stands where house Martell sat, the princess there smiling graciously. But then, he veered off course, riding towards the Lannister stands. The household there's faces suddenly fell from glee to solemnity, and the all watched in stunned silence as the Dragon Prince put the blue wreath on the lap of Lyanna Stark.

Time slowed to Howland then, as gasps and shocked remarks spread through the crowd. Opposite their stands, Brandon Stark got to his feet, but Howland saw it was the Lion of the Rock, Tywin Lannister, who was first to his feet. Howland felt some sort of glee for having been correct in his reading the prophecy, but that came crashing down as Ned, and He were ordered to follow Tywin to his tent while Lyanna was suddenly surrounded by an impenetrable barrier of guards. Howland didn't see the stands clear out, but he was certain it was to the sound of whispers and plots.

Instead, he found himself in the stone walled room of Tywin Lannister's Solar, where, when he entered, Lyanna was already being interrogated by Tywin, surrounded by what looked to be powerful western lords. Tywin's advisors.

"I swear, I never said anything to him!" Lyanna insisted, but Howland noticed the frown that formed on Ned's face.

"Are you certain, Lyanna? It is of the utmost importance." Tywin demanded with a grimace so great it might kill an uncautious man.

Suddenly, Brandon's voice came loud and uproarous from behind the door, "TYWIN!"

"Open the door," the lord commanded, and the way was open to the enraged Lord of Winterfell.

"Are you responsible for this?!" demanded the wild wolf.

Tywin all but snorted, "Why would I want this? What does this gain me?" the lion demanded of the wolf.

Brandon made to shout in retort but a glance to his brother's solemn face seemed to calm him. He gave a great, slow breath to dissipate his rage, the speaking in a quiet voice laced in hate, "What do we do about this?"

Lyarra entered then, having been slower from the stands than the others because of her pregnancy, "We do nothing."

"Mother?" Brandon replied surprised.

"If we act the mad king will call for all our heads. That will mean war, a war we may well lose. For now it's best if we keep a low profile." Lyarra answered, and Howland, though he had never spoken with the woman, felt growing respect for her.

Tywin looked at his wife for a moment, then nodded, "My Lady wife is right. For now, we should send Lyanna somewhere safe. Lord Brandon, I think it best you return her to Winterfell."

Lyanna's eyes widened, "Why?"

Tywin looked back at her, a strange warmth in his visage, "We must keep you safe, and Casterly Rock is far too close to King's Landing."

Lyanna flustered, "I don't need protection from the prince, I'm certain he didn't mean anything by it..."

The room was suddenly silent. Ned spoke slowly, as if every word were being weighed, "The prince has overlooked his wife in favor of crowning you, Lyanna. He's just shamed the entirety of Dorne. He definitely meant something."

Lyanna looked defeated, and Howland couldn't help but think how remarkable Ned's power was to take such fiery spirits and make them see reason. Tywin sighed, and began issuing orders, "You will stay there until Jaime is in position to take you to wife. Ned will return with me to Casterly Rock to insure the lords of the west don't suspect any foul play from the northerners, and vice versa. Jaime will..." Tywin stopped, looking about the room, "Where is Jaime?"

The assembled lords looked about, but he wasn't there. Then Another man burst into the room, "Lord Tywin!" He shouted.

The man looked up, "Lord Kevan, what is it?"

"The King ordered all the lords to return to the stands after you and the Starks left. It's Jaime, Tywin, he's gone before the king!"

Tywin's eyes flashed with both panic and rage. He turned to his adopted son, "Eddard, go stop whatever foolishness is occurring. If the king orders something that could harm our family, stop him. I will gather the men we have here."

"I shall as well." Brandon offered, seemingly willing to fight any Targaryen he could get his hands on.

Ned bowed, and then ran out of the room, his grey cloak flapping, and Howland following shortly behind.


	11. Jaime II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight!

Jaime's heart raced in anticipation. They had been working so hard, and quietly, quickly finding their way into the king's inner circle, and finally he was ready to commit, to join the order of white knights.

The stands were slowly refilling with lords and ladies who curiously peered around, as Jaime took a knee in the center of the tournament grounds. Among them, his beautiful twin sister sat, hands on her knees and smiling at the culmination of her hurried efforts for the last week.

The king coughed, and the white cloaked Hightower next to him said, in a ceremonial voice ringing out through the stadium, "The Kingsguard is an order of seven, but we are now numbered six, your grace."

The king smiled wrily, "Then we shall choose another to join your ranks. Who comes to accept the honor?" He pronounced in a serpentine voice.

Jaime kept his head low as he said, "I do, your grace, Ser Jaime of house Lannister."

The king gave a wicked smile, as he asked, "And to what do you swear?"

Jaime opened his mouth to accept, but was interrupted by a familiar voice, "Jaime!"

There was a murmur of confusion from the audience, which was broken by Lady Ashara Dayne suddenly exclaiming, "Ned!"

Jaime rose, feeling dread, hate and rage wash over him as he turned to see Eddard enter the stadium ground. Lord Commander Hightower sneared, "What is the meaning of this?!"

"Apologies, your grace, Lord Tywin Lannister has requested his son's presence." the Quiet wolf reported quickly.

The white bull scoffed, "Your grace, this man intrudes on the most sacred of ceremonies of the Kingsguard, shall I remove him?"

Aerys chuckled, ignoring his guardian, "So, you're Tywin's bitch's pup? Come closer, boy, and kneel before your king."

Jaime saw the grimace come to Eddard's face at the insult to his mother, but regardless he did his duty and took a knee in front of the mad king, who laughed, "So, I have both of Tywin's sons. I could take two heirs in one stroke!"

Ser Barristan Selmy, who had stood opposite Lord Commander Hightower, but had remained silent to this point, quietly remarked, "Your grace, there is but one vacancy in the kingsguard."

"I did not request you speak!" the king shot back, then his mischievous eyes returned to the two heirs on their knees in front of him, "Hmmm... which of Tywin's sons shall I take from him?" The crowd was silent in their witnessing of the king's madness. Jaime scanned, around, but he could not find the dragon prince he was acting for. He did see Cersei's eyes glowing in fury at their adopted brother, but ignored it.

The Lord Commander coughed, "Perhaps the most worthy should join the ranks of our order?" he suggested.

Aerys smiled more, "Yes," then he roared loudly, "And how better to learn who is the more worthy than a test of arms?" He challenged them, and Jaime felt rage overtake him. _Damn Ned, damn him to every one of the seven hells! He thinks to undermine everything we've been working for._

Eddard seemed stunned, but remained knelt. The mad king suddenly sneered, "Rise, fool. Rise and fight your brother."

Eddard rose, and Jaime drew his blade, turned and looked angrily at his so-called brother, "Eddard, I don't believe we've ever sparred before! How very interesting this will be."

Eddard unsheathed his sword, his eyes narrowing, "Jaime, I don't wish to fight you."

"Did you not hear me?" Demanded the king, "I commanded you! Fight your brother, do your duty!"

Jaime saw the rage in his eyes, and took his chance to begin the fight. He lunged, trying to take the Stark by surprise, but Ned was ready and parried out of the way.

The two warriors circled one another, swords drawn. Jaime roared and charged, leaping forward into a downward bash that Eddard deftly dodged. Jaime used his speed to try and follow through, but Eddard caught the blow with his blade, causing a ringing of steel to shine through the stadium. Eddard backed out of the blow, and the two stood looking at one another again.

The stands were half full now, but Jaime payed them no mind. In his rage, he charged recklessly, Leading to a flurry of blows that Eddard blocked until they locked handguards. Then Ned looked him in the eyes. Jaime growled under his breath, "Cowardly wolf."

Ned's grey eyes turned stormy, and he pushed Jaime off of him. Jaime was sent backwards, but Eddard followed through. There was a gasp from the crowd as he marched down the lion, an implacable look on his face as he slashed and threw the man further and further back.

The mad king cackled, "Good, good, go on!" while his courtiers and guards merely grimaced.

The two danced, blades in hand, fighting like demons, trading blows like heroes from songs. Jaime was deaf to the gasps from the crowd and japes from the king. He could only see Ned, only feel rage as the borders of his vision went red. The steel sung again and again, Jaimes blows becoming more frantic, until ultimately He threw Ned back, leaving his chest open. Jaime smiled evilly, spinning his blade to take advantage of the chain mailed target. Time slowed as his blade approached his brother's side, and Ned sprung his trap. He deftly maneuvered his blade along the length of his arm, parrying the blow, and bringing the pommel out to knock against Jaime's skull. _Hard._

Jaime fell on his back, his blade thrown out of his hand from the force and his world suddenly filled with moving lights. He felt his blade be retrieved by Eddard, and the ringing in his ears subsided in time to hear the mad king pronounce, "Well done, well done!"

Ned knelt at his brothers side, ensuring that he was still awake and well. The mad king chuckled, "Well now, come and take your vows."

Ned looked furiously at the Mad King, "Vows? Your grace, I will not..."

The mad king sneered furiously, "You will swear the vows, you will!" he insisted.

The Stark shook his head, "Your grace, I am greatly sorry if I disappointed you..."

"Dissapointed?" demanded the mad king as the lords of the realm were paralyzed in fear, "Seize him!" He ordered the guards.

"Lord Eddard!" Came a voice from the entrance to the field, and suddenly three dozen men wearing the colors of houses Stark, Lannister and Baratheon stormed into the center of the tourney grounds, among them lords Brandon, Robert, and Howland.

The Mad King looked infuriated, "What is the meaning of this?"

Tywin walked in with more men, walking in front of his sons, and in the middle of the room, before the lords of realm, shouted, "I am here, _your grace_ , to retrieve my son and ward."

The king's eyes were inflamed, "You dare stand in the way of a king's order of arrest?" The assembled men's hands went to their the stands, Lord Arryn two stood ready to defend his foster son, and all of the houses of the crownlands and the reach had followed suit.

"I am the hand of the king, your grace," Tywin commented, "And I know of no charges being levied against Lord Eddard."

The king's temper showed, when the bald figure of the master of whispers appeared, muttering something into the king's ear. The king settled back into his seat, "Very well then. But it is hardly proper for the hand to go against the wishes of the king."

Tywin gave a look of rage, clearly understanding the kings meaning, "Very well then, I resign from my position as Hand of the King, and will return home. He said loudly, throwing the pin onto the ground before the king and herding his house and allies away from the tourney grounds, and away from the Mad King.


	12. Tywin I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tywin's a big lovable bear

Tywin rode at the head of the party, alone with his thoughts. He had ordered a hard march back into the Westerlands. They had been going in relative silence since they suddenly left Harrenhal, and Tywin had busied himself ordering about the weary servants until he ran out things he could think of telling them to do. Lyarra, for once, didn't scold him for his cruelty, she merely sat in her carriage with Tyrion, Jaime and Benjen, silent to the whole of the world.

The rush after the scene in the tourney left him riding back to Casterly Rock with Jaime in a sick cot and Lyanna under heavy guard for her own protection. _If there's one thing I don't trust, it's the whims of a lusty Targareyan_. Eddard had stayed with him, he thought it best it be seen that there was no animosity between him and Jaime, or at least thought that way. Jaime, for his part, had been injured enough to warrant staying in the carriage with Lyarra, mostly grumbling, but not well enough to get to horse himself. Cersei... Cersei had confined herself to her carriage, taking no visitors. Her rage, however, was felt everywhere one went in the Lannister party.

He found himself wondering where he went wrong with her. _Joanna had the patience of the mother herself, and the honesty of the father._ Actually, now that Tywin thought about it, Joanna was reputable for her ease in lying. He had admired her for it, initially. Tywin shook his head, getting the thought out of his head.

His thoughts went to Jaime, who he had last seen angrily berating his entrapment in the carriage with his good mother, then proceed to struggle walking from the injuries he sustained his leg. _Foolish boy, he should've know better than to continue the fight after his leg had been injured like that._ But from all accounts, he hadn't even paused, as if he hadn't even noticed that Eddard had given him a sizable, but non serious gash in his leg. _What was he thinking? He would give up his birthright for what? Some misguided attempt at attaining honor?_

Tywin thought back on Eddard's cut on Jaime's leg. _It really was quite impressive, finding such a precise angle that would injure, incapacitate even, but not do any lasting damage._ He felt pride at the boy's handiwork. Most could not even come close to achieving such precision, and he had done it in less than ideal circumstances. _It was a good thing he thought to dress in chain, else Jaime may well have killed him._ Tywin felt dread at the thought. _Strange, to think so fondly of those not of one's blood._ But still, he admitted to himself, he had begun to think of Eddard Stark as a third son. All of the Starks, in fact, had etched their way into Tywin's fond thoughts.

Benjen had won him over in his care of Tyrion, his ability to stand for those he called friend had impressed Tywin. He was ferocious when provoked, and defended his pack jealously. Lyanna had an iron in her, a strength that made her like a wild animal, impossible to contain, and yet somehow was charming to all who encountered her. Her protectiveness of Tyrion too, had somehow won over Tywin.

And then there was Lyarra. Lyarra... well... But enough of that. There was buisness to attend. Tywin rode to Kevan's side, "Kevan, have you time for a word?"

"Of course, Tywin." Kevan responded, and they rode a little way from prying eyes and ears.

"I need you to go to Castamere the moment we arrive at Casterly Rock. Gather all of the gold you can find and bring it back the to the Rock. War is coming, brother, and we need all the coin we can manage." Tywin ordered quickly and efficiently.

"A good plan. But what of Jaime?" Kevan questioned.

Tywin sighed, "He has yet to recover. When he does, I'll have to find something to do with him. And he and Lyanna must be wed, as well."

Kevan nodded in agreement, and Tywin took his leave of him. They rode another hour before tywin declared for camp to be made. He found himself commanding tents raised and horses tied when he spotted eddard doing the same.

He dismounted, a servant taking his horse, and walked towards the young man.

"Eddard," he greeted.

"Lord Tywin," he responded with a small bow. Tywin felt something at the formality some discomfort. He noticed how Eddard had a worried disposition on his face.

Tywin sighed and the two watched as people began filing along the campgrounds, the last of the train of people arriving with his wife and daughters. Eddard said nothing, merely watching the calm organization of the affair.

Tywin broke the silence, "you fought Jaime."

Eddard gulped slightly, "I did, my lord."

"You did well," Tywin conferred, and saw Eddard look surprised in his periphery.

"Thank you, Lord Tywin," He said eventually, "I thought..."

"That I would be upset you injured my son? Understandable, but you did it in the name of saving him from his own foolishness." He sighed again, "I apologize. I should have told you of my plans for Lyanna before I disclosed them publicly."

"My lord?"

"No, don't argue. You have proven yourself by far the most sensible of my children, and the most loyal. You deserve recognition for it." Tywin commented.

Eddard said nothing for a long while, before muttering, "Thank you, my lord."

Tywin nodded, and, unable to think of the words he wished to say, merely said, "Well, get back to it then."

Eddard nodded, and Tywin rode off towards his now finished tent. When he got to the tent flap, he saw the carriages carrying Lyarra and Lyanna already set up in front of the pavilion.

He stepped in silently, and was suddenly impressed with an argument in process.

"I can't believe you, woman!" Cersei shrieked.

The sound of Lyarra's sigh rung in Tywin's ears, "Cersei, it is for the best."

"You said you only wanted what is best for me and Jaime! You lied!" Cersei was in hysterics, and Tywin thought Lyarra would have no patience for it. Why should she? She was not her daughter.

"Cersei, I have no choice. You have put them both in grave danger." Lyarra said softly.

" _I_ put them in grave danger?" Cersei demanded.

"Cersei, Ned and Jaime went before the king, they directly disobeyed his orders. Do you think he will soon forget that?" Lyarra asked, her voice still soft and sweet to Tywin's shock.

Cersei was silent for a while, before retorting, but quieter than before, "Eddard didn't have to intervene."

"Do you truly believe Jaime will be happier guarding the mad king than lord of Casterly Rock? Do you think your father will allow such a thing, especially after what happened to Lyanna?"

Cersei said nothing, but sniffled loudly. Lyarra stepped into Tywin's view through the tent flap, approaching the distressed girl slowly, "We need to be quiet for a while, not call attention to ourselves. I promise you, we will find you a man who will make you happy once all of this is behind us."

Cersei sniffed again, "But I was to be _Queen_ " She whined quietly.

Lyarra made a sympathetic sound and brought Cersei into a hug, "Sweetling, being Queen is not all it's made out to be. Far better to be happy, I think you'll find."

Cersei cried into her shoulder for a while, before sniffiling her way to her cot behind another set of tent flaps. Lyarra watched her leave with fondness, rubbing her pregnant stomach before saying, "You can come out now."

Tywin couldn't help but be impressed at his wife's cheekiness, and stepped into the room, "You calmed her." He said, shocked.

"No, I consoled her. It will take time, but she will see this is all for the best." Lyarra assured with a kind smile in the direction of Cersei's room.

"I hope it will be," Tywin commented, putting a hand on her large belly.

Lyarra turned to him, "It will be, Tywin. We will weather the storm, just as the Starks always have."

Tywin cocked his head to the side, "Why do that for her?"

Lyarra smiled, "Because she is my daughter, even if she didn't come from my womb."

Tywin didn't try to hide his surprise, "Thank you," he paused before adding, "For helping them"

Lyarra looked fondly back, putting a hand to his cheek, "Thank you, for letting me."

Tywin, before his mind could stop his heart, brought his wife into a kiss, a caste one, but a kiss nonetheless. Lyarra hugged him, and muttered, "I love you."

Tywin closed his eyes and smiled, "I love you too."

 


	13. Robert I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby B is going to the big city

"An auspicious end to the tourney, wouldn't you say, Robert?" asked Jon, as the tent ground was being prepared for the journey back to the Eyrie. It had been a few days after the final lance was broken, and of course, the final duel held. Even now, the lord and ladies of the realm whispered how the lion and the wolf dueled for the mad king, how they fought like heroes and snarled and bit like warriors of songs. In fact, Robert had heard a few new tales being strung about the two, and songs were already being composed about how the brotherly fighters had some great divide causing the dramatic duel. Robert doubted such a thing to be true. He'd even heard they were fighting for a woman, and Robert had spat out his beer laughing that the noble Ned Stark would ever be so petty.

Robert, for his part, had been drinking the last few days away in the safety of the Arryn camp, where all ears were loyal to no one other than Jon. It let him feel safe after all that had happened.

Robert grunted, "Poor Ned was dragged away before he could as much as say goodbye."

Jon gave a quick look at his ward, and a warmth passed over his face, "I'm certain he meant nothing by it, Robert. He is in grave danger from the King."

Robert nodded, "No, I imagine he did not. But I worry that Tywin has too much influenced him."

Jon did not respond, only looking grimly into the distance. There was a tension in the air, some feeling that Robert was almost certain could mean only one thing: war was coming. They watched the last of the tents drop, it falling entirely before Jon asked, "Are you returning to the Eyrie?"

Robert sighed, "Seven hells, I don't know. With Ned gone and Denys returning to Gulltown, I think I might as well go home myself."

Jon nodded, "That's good, robert. It's about time you took up your responsibilities as Lord of Storm's End."

Robert snorted, "I'd rather not, to be honest. Stannis should have been born first, he'd make a far greater lord."

Jon frowned, "Perhaps he would, but he was not born first, and so the responsibility lies on your shoulders."

Robert shrugged, "Perhaps. I had considered giving him Summerhall, he could fix up the place like Ned is supposed to do to the canal his brother wants him to build."

Jon raised an eyebrow, "So he is building the canal? I heard rumor as much."

Robert nodded, "I think it will be good for the North, and the Riverlands, and everyone, really. The only ones hurting will b e the Dornish, and we don't need them anyway."

Jon said nothing, but shrugged. Robert figured that was all he was getting from him. They strolled round the area, when they heard a tune being played through the courtyard.

A blonde bard around Robert's own age who was skinny as a twig was sitting on a stump strumming a lute. He gave nearby ladies a charming smile, or what he approximated a charming smile to be, and began singing.

His cherry red lips parted as he uttered, _A young man stood with cloth of gold another cloth of silver. One hailed from lands barren where all the people shiver. The other from mountains of plenty came, and meant for the other what a hunter means game._

Robert winced at the wording, and Jon frowned, "Another song for Ned and Jaime. I fear if they all get played we will bore for them quickly."

_They raged and clashed, the two long fought. Like warriors of old, they were thought._

"Bah, this is awful," muttered Robert. Annoyed at the terrible lyrics.

_But who won or lost, it mattered nought. For in the end the Dragon ordered their corpses wrought._

The words caught both of the lords attentions, and the turned, giving piercing glares at the minstrel, who was clearly nervous by the gesture.

 _But the lion saved them both from death, and in thanks they both left. But, my friends, twas all in vain. For now the Dragon will see the lion slain._ The minstrel finished, stood, bowed, and scampered away without another word.

"This does not bode well for Ned." Jon muttered, anger plain in his voice.

"My lords," a silvery sweet voice came from behind them.

They turned, and Jon greeted the prince of the realm, "Your grace, to what do we owe the pleasure."

Prince Rhaegar cleared his throat, "I bring word from the King. A message to be delivered to you. Perhaps we could find someplace to speak."

Jon's eyes narrowed in suspicion, "I'm afraid we were soon to depart. You could deliver it here, I'm certain."

Rhaegar looked nervous a second, but sighed, shook his head, and stated, "Very well, my lord father wished to ask you to be hand of the king, now that the position is vacant."

Jon raised an eyebrow, "Truly? Your grace I am too old for such a position, and..."

Rhaegar coughed, "Apologies, my lord Arryn, but my father requested Lord Baratheon to be his hand."

Robert's eyes widened, "Me?"

Rhaegar nodded, "The king held his cousin, your father, as a close friend. He believes any child of Steffon to be more than qualified for the throne."

Robert looked to Jon's face, seeing only the continence he adopted to show impassivity that he so often required as lord of the vale. Robert pursed his lips, "I'm afraid I need a moment to decide."

Rhaegar nodded, "Of course, the royal family will be in the Kingspyre Tower awaiting your decision."

The prince left, and Robert turned to Jon, "What do you think?"

Jon rubbed his chin, "I'm not certain, Robert. The king is unstable, you woul be right in the line of fire should he lash out, just as Tywin was. But..."

"But if I am in the capitol, I'll be able to warn Ned and the Lannisters if they're in danger." Robert added.

Jon studied his ward momentarily, "It is risky Robert, though a noble cause. It is up to your judgment to do what you think is right."

Robert nodded thoughtfully, then looking his mentor in the eyes said, "I'm going to do it. For Ned."

Jon smiled, "This is foolish, but I am proud of you, Robert."

Robert chuckled, "I always was the foolish one." He turned and left the man behind, walking his way to the tower and up to the prince's solar, the King evidently having retired for the night. Arthur Dayne stood guard, white cloaked and grinning, and th door closed behind him with a small thud.

Rhaegar looked up from a letter, "Ah, Lord Robert, cousin, have you made a decision?"

Robert studied the man momentarily. He was silver haired, pale skinned, and had eyes that Robert felt an immediate distrust of. He thought of why he was going to accept, of Ned, and decided to answer, "I will accept if you answer me one question."

Rhaegar narrowed his eyes, but said, "Very well, I will answer to the best of my ability."

"Why did you crown Lady Lyanna?"

Rhaegar sighed, "It was misguided. I thought to thank her for the dance we shared, she was quite amusing, and dared me to do it. I wasn't thinking truly, didn't realize she was speaking in full jest, so I did it. I realize now the full error of my ways."

Robert was unsatisfied with the answer, but couldn't think of any other possible explanation, so nodded, "I accept. I will be the hand of the king."


	14. Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plots are afoot! Or possibly plots are only a toe, or perhaps an entire leg!

The spider and the merchant were in the ruined dragonpit. The darkness was overwhelming, the only light coming from a small oil lamp which illuminated the table between them. All that was visible was the soft hands of the spider, and the glint of the gold chain around

"The silver dragon has failed then?" the merchant asks

"He has. He has no way of getting to the she wolf."

"He's given up, then?"

"No, he merely has decided to wait for her to leave the Rock."

"The Lion will not allow that."

"No, he will not."

"So he will not be able to take the girl."

"No, though he will not give up on the prophecy."

"Can we still use this?"

"I think so. If we can find another way to manipulate him."

"We need him to die."

"Yes, and the sun princess."

"Perhaps we can find some... alternative method."

The spider rubbed his hands together, his bald head running through possibilities, "Perhaps... we can find some way to blame the lion for the death of the sun princess?"

"How?"

"Perhaps we have her killed on the Lion's lands."

"Yes, that might work... but how?"

"We must convince the dragon to go west with his family. That will be hard with the Stag coming, we will need some great excuse"

"Make amends, perhaps?"

"Or collect the she-wolf."

A pause, "I will begin to gather men for the task."

"I can make the arrangements."

"Where shall it occur?"

"The mountains, I think. Near the den of the dogs?"

"Yes... but what of the prince?"

"There are potions that we could use to make him... forget."

"When can you get them?"

"Today, if I must."

"Very good. We must work quickly then."

"Yes, best begin now. We have a war to start, after all."


	15. Robert II

The prince’s chambers were elegantly decorated in deep hues, giving the whole room a calming effect on any who step past its threshold, for all the good that did Rhaegar. The calm, demure dragon prince was busy pacing a hole in the floor of his chambers.

A knock came on the door, which Rhaegar didn’t flinch to answer with a curt, “Enter.”

Robert Baratheon entered the room, looking uncomfortable, “My prince...”

“Lord Robert, should you not be at the small council meeting?” Rhaegar interrupted impatiently.

Robert shrugged, “The meeting’s over, I have been sent to inquire as to why you had chosen not to attend.”

“I was too much in a rage,” He muttered under his breath.

Robert raised an eyebrow, “Oh? The demur Dragon Prince deigns to bear his claws?” he chuckled gruffly in a vain attempt to mask his nervousness, “And what, my noble prince, has gotten you in such a tiff?”

“This,” Rhaegar snarled, producing a letter, “Is a report that Lord  _ Varys, _ ” he said the name with such vitriol Robert was shocked he didn’t actually bite, “has seen fit to assure me is accurate.”

Robert took the letter, skimming the contents.  _...and furthermore, it seems rumors are abounding that the Crown Prince has impregnated the daughter of House Stark, which has only further infuriated the House of Lannister... _ Robert shook his head, trying to keep his calm at the slight on his best friend’s sister.  _ What would Ned do? _ “Given that these rumors are false, perhaps it would be best not to worry about it?”

“So I would assume,” Rhaegar said pointing a finger at his cousin, “So, of course, the bastard went and told my father.”

Robert sighed in frustration.  _ I have no fucking clue what Ned would do, _ “May I ask what the king saw fit to do?”

“He wishes for me to take Elia to Casterly Rock with half the guards of King’s Landing. I believe the Spider called it a ‘show of force.’” Rhaegar replied, his demeanor now returning to normal, “You can imagine why I find this objectionable to say the least.”

In truth, Robert could not see anything to object to, beyond a general annoyance in having to parade around in lordly finery. But, he was hardly about to display his ignorance for the intelligent Dragon Prince to see, “I can, your grace. But surely ‘tis better to follow his orders now and make amends with Lord Tywin later?”  _ By the gods, I sounded like a proper Hand for a moment there, Ned will never believe me. _

“Perhaps, but there are other matters to be considered,” Rhaegar commented, back to his normal tone of distance, though not without kindness, “There are plans I have set, things I have put into motion which are now in grave danger of failing.” His gaze met Robert’s, “I cannot allow that to happen.”

A memory of his father came in Robert’s mind.  _ “Robert, my son,” Stephon spoke wearily, after coming home for a brief visit after being subject to the Realm’s will for countless days on end, “Never trust a Targaryen's machinations unless they are clearly explained to you.” _ Robert vaguely remembered him telling him this with a smile, back when he enjoyed working with his childhood friend, but now it seemed to be sage advice.

“I would be honored to ensure your plans follow through,” Robert spoke slowly and carefully, trying to channel his inner Ned, “but in order to do so I fear I must first know them.”

Rhaegar considered the request briefly before sighing, “Robert, I’m afraid that my plans are too delicate for you to know, yet. They are too...” Rhaegar appeared to be searching for a word, “Malleable.”

Robert decided this was the best he could do, “As you wish. Is there anything else you wish to discuss?”

Rhaegar shook his head, “No, Robert. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must prepare for this... journey.”

Robert left the room, wondering precisely what to do about the situation with the crown prince, his feet finding their way up the many flights of steps to the Tower of the Hand. His door swung open with little fanfare, but his step inside was stopped by surprise to see none other than the spider of King’s Landing standing casually within.

“I do hope I am not intruding,” Varys said silkily, “I had hoped we could speak”

Robert blinked twice in surprise, then walked through the door, shutting it behind him, figuring this to be the least odd thing about his new job, “Why have you decided to intrude on my quarters?”

“I find it best to avoid prying eyes and ears,” Varys responded, then gestured to the nearby desk, “Shall we sit?”

Robert sighed, sitting down, “Well then, what is it?”

Varys gave an impish grin, “Ah, straight to the point then? You’re a man of actions, aren’t you, Lord Robert?”

“What do you want, Spider?” Robert demanded more forcefully, his weariness giving way to annoyance.

“Tut, tut, Lord Robert! That is hardly a way to greet someone who wishes to lend you aid.” Varys practically giggled, “I suppose I must forgive you. Afterall, it has been a... trying start to your handship.”

“Aye, it has,” Robert agreed, “Not the least because of your constant whispering.”

“I’m just doing my job, my lord. You can hardly blame me for doing such.” Varys countered smoothly, “Regardless, I have heard songs of late that might interest you.”

“I have already heard your tales about Ned’s sister,” Robert countered angrily, “I would warn you not to insult my friend nor his family in my presence.”

“I apologize if you take offence, my lord. As I said before, I was merely doing my job,” Varys easily defended himself, “But these are rumors of a different sort. Murmurs about the king.”

Robert raised an eyebrow at this, “What is being said about his grace?”

“Rumors that his mind is failing him,” Varys confirmed slyly, “Baseless rumors that he has become... shall we say unstable?”

Robert grimaced.  _ Well, the rumors aren’t  _ **_entirely_ ** _ baseless, are they, Spider? _ “I see. I suppose I must ask if you know any way one might quelch these rumors?”

“I’m afraid I merely listen, my lord,” Varys replied, almost gently, “But there are other... darker things being whispered. That his grace has developed an appetite for... unspeakable things.”

Robert stopped, he hadn’t heard of that, “What things?”

“If the rumors are to be believed he has taken to burning people alive,” Varys answered easily, “with Wildfire, my lord.”

_ Wildfire? _ “Damn.” Robert muttered.

“Quite, my lord,” Varys replied, “The cityfolk are growing quite restless, indeed. The faith has become more inquirious as to the king’s private affairs, and there is talk once again of the faith militant. It seems the city is kindling waiting to light.”

Robert silently digested that information, his mind going blank in stunned worry. Varys seemed to accept this as his queue to depart, “Unless you have further need of me, I will depart.” He turned, but stopped as he reached the door, “My lord, I would be careful how you act. Too many good men die in times like these.”

The door shut with a quiet tap, leaving Robert to his thoughts.  _ What does Varys know? Why the veiled threat? _ Varys didn’t seem to have anything to gain from killing him, so perhaps the warning was indeed just a warning.  _ But you can never be too careful with him. _

He pondered what to do.  _ If what Varys claims is true, then the smallfolk are moments away from revolt. A smallfolk rebellion would at best be devastating, especially with winter so recently ended. And the faith militant? Madness, all of it. _

He wondered briefly how successful a revolt would be. The goldcloaks didn’t lack for funds, but could they survive a full scale assault from the smallfolk? It would be a close run thing, one way or another. And then there’s the matter of Rhaegar’s departure.  _ Of course the bastard must depart the capital at a time like this, and headed straight for Ned, too _ . He would need an escort, which would take valuable men away from the city. _ Perhaps the kingsguard would be enough? No, that would hardly look princely. And all we care about here is appearances. _

Robert contemplated the matter. The traditional escort for the royal party was half the city’s watchmen, nearly a thousand in number, for the crown prince half that many would be expected, but for a second or third born prince, only an escort of twenty and five men would be considered appropriate.  _ Perhaps fifty men would suffice? _

It might be seen as an insult to the royal family, but wouldn’t it be more insulting if the king were left undefended?  _ Though would it be so bad should something befall the king?  _ Robert shook his head of the treasonous thought, but the niggling remained.  _ Like it or not, I swore an oath to defend the king. The smaller party will have to work. _

His mind made, Robert began writing the necessary orders, then pausing, and switching tasks. On a fresh piece of parchment, he began etching out a letter of warning.

_ Dear Ned... _


End file.
